Child of Darkness
by Gandalf3213
Summary: After years of mourning Xantos, Qui-Gon is persuaded to take on a new apprentice. Obi-Wan is a quick learner, powerful in the Force, calm and patient, an opposite to Qui-Gon. And he's blind. Is it possible for two such different people to work together?
1. Luminous Beings We Are

**A/N: Basically, it's everything everyone's ever done with Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon with one little twist -- Obi-Wan's blind. It's irreversible, he even dreams in sounds and smells (as I will explain later) for now, just know that Obi-Wan is blind. Period. **

"_Obi-Wan is a great master. As strong as Master Windu and as wise as Master Yoda." __**Anakin Skywalker**_

_Twelve Years Ago_

The Jedi held the baby in her arms. The Jedi, Sh'nike was humanoid, as was the child. Sh'nike had been on a diplomacy mission on a planet a solar system over when she'd felt the disturbance in the Force. She rushed to the planet where a baby was born -- the cause of the disturbance. Just touching the baby was enough to know that the mediclorians in his system were far above normal.

It was easy enough to negotiate the release of the baby to the Jedi. The woman who had given birth was young and not ready for child. She only asked to name the boy -- Obi-Wan, a combination of a father's and grandfather's names, and a surname of Kenobi.

Sh'nike had did a thorough examination of the child on the ship. Though barely four days old, it didn't cry, another trademark of a being one with the Force. She concluded that the baby was perfectly healthy except for one thing…

He was blind.

Never had there been a person blind from birth who was able to train as a Jedi. But Sh'nike was confident in her decision to get the child. She would report to Coruscant with the child and ask for it to be brought up as a Jedi. She would see that it was accepted into the order…

_Present Day_

Obi-Wan turned his head slightly but did not turn away from the drawing he was working on. His left hand brushed over the paper, able to feel the impressions from the pencil. With his right hand, he added two more short lines. "Hello, Bant."

Bant Eerin dropped into a seat next to Obi-Wan. Though impressed by his drawing she wasn't surprised. It was just something Obi-Wan could _do, _like being the best fighter with a lightsaber even though he couldn't see his opponent. Instead of commenting on the beauty of the artwork -- for it was beautiful -- she asked, "What is it?"

Obi-Wan shrugged, looking at her and tilting his head slightly to one side. It was only when he looked at you that you could really tell Obi-Wan was blind. His eyes were an impossibly light shade of blue and there appeared to be no pupils. He looked back in the direction of the artwork. It was done entirely in a charcol pencil with no shading. "I think I might have met him once, when I was very young."

Bant looked back at the picture. It showed the half-face of a man done in exquisite detail while the rest was blurry, distorted. Even the face was someone crude, like it was hewn of rock. The small girl smiled, liking this veiw into Obi-Wan's world. The man's had a half-smile, as if amused by something Obi-Wan had said. Obi-Wan put his pencils and sketchbook in a bag woven for him by Bant for his last birthday -- his twelfth birthday. He would be thirteen in less than a month. He had less than a month to be taken on as an apprentice.

This thought had entered the young boy's mind many times in the past weeks but he pushed it away viciously. Not only did he not want to be thinking of it -- for it often made his stomach flip -- but he also needed to concentrate on where they were going.

Bant and Obi-Wan left the gardens together and entered the early-morning hum of the Jedi Temple. "Are you nervous, Obi-Wan?" Bant asked quietly. Obi-Wan thought for a second before nodding slowly. He _was_ nervous. He knew that there would be several Jedi looking for apprentices at this tournament. Obi-Wan was competing, along with his friend Garen and a handful of other initiates, all hoping to be apprenticed.

Bant squeezed his hand, smiling a little even though her friend couldn't see. She already had two Jedi looking at her as a possible padawan. Even at the age of ten her knowledge of the Force was strong. She would probably be apprenticed by the of the year to either Master Tahl or Master Rhara. She wasn't participating the tournament, though she was attending to support Obi-Wan.

They had arrived at the gym a full hour before the set time of the tournament. Garen Muln greeted them warmly. A lanky humanoid with a quick smile, Garen was unquestionably a good fighter, though his skills truly lied as a pilot. He clapped Obi-Wan on the back, thrusting a practice 'saber in his hands. "You want to spar?" he asked.

Obi-Wan nodded. "In a second, let me stretch first." He handed his bag of pencils to Bant who took him, though her silver eyes were on a figure just past Obi-Wan and Garen. "I didn't know Bruck was going to be here." She commented, eyes narrowing.

"Yeah," Garen said, his voice betraying his dislike. "He's paired with Obi, too. Should be a good fight, huh?"

Obi-Wan straightened up, activating the lightsaber that he would use to spar with Garen. He took a deep breath, letting the Force swirl around him, waiting until the right moment…

He put up a defense just as Garen's blade came down. They whipped apart from the force of the blow before coming back together. Obi-Wan flipped over Garen's head and lost his bearings for a split second. The sound of energy crackling through the air made him put his weapon up behind his head and the 'sabers clashed once again.

Obi-Wan fought using the Force as a guide. It was how he had done everything since he was small. The Force was something he could trust -- he had never felt inferior because of his lack of sight. On the contrary, he felt that he had a stronger faith in the Force because of it.

Obi-Wan's stance so far had been mostly defense but now he pushed the one advantage he had over Garen -- his height. In a fast series of blows coming from above, Obi-Wan managed to throw Garen off balance. He touched the lightsaber to the boy's neck, signaling the end of the battle.

Garen grasped Obi-Wan's proffered and stood up, breathing heavily from the challenging duel. He bowed, "Good battle, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan bowed back, "You were a tough opponent, Garen."

Garen grinned, clapping Obi-Wan on the back. More people had entered the gym and there were now other duels circling around them. "Who's here?" Obi-Wan asked, tilting his head in preparation to listen.

Garen surveyed the crowd. Much of it were fellow initiates -- Bant was sitting next to Quinlan Vos -- but there were several masters present. "Yoda is here, of course. He's sitting up front and looking at us 'cause he knows we're talking about him." He smiled at Yoda and gave a small wave. The old Jedi turned away. "Now Yoda's talking to this man…oh, I know I know him!" Garen frowned, trying to place the man. "Anyway, he's really tall with a little beard and long hair." Garen kept frowning at the man.

"And?" Obi-Wan prompted when his friend hadn't spoken for a while.

"Oh, yeah. Well, there's Master Tahl sitting next to Bant. I really think she'll take her on as her apprentice. Masters Bondara and Drallig are here too." Garen continued, referring to the lightsaber instructors.

"Who else…there's Master Rhara. And….I don't know, Obi." He smiled lopsidedly at his friend, bringing one of Obi-Wan's own hands up so he could tell. "We got to get ready. You'll do fine. We'll both get masters and sneak out for a night of drinking to celebrate." Once again, Garen's odd humor made serious Obi-Wan more than a little confused, but then Garen moved away and Obi was left on his own.

Obi-Wan reactivated his lightsaber, imagining how the energy blade would look. He had been told it was green. He took a deep breath, thinking. He knew he was good with a blade. He excelled there -- mostly because of his total faith in the Force. He could always sense where his opponent was, what they were doing, and what attack they would use. He thought that even if he could see, he would still fight blindfolded.

"Obi-Wan?"

Obi-Wan moved towards the voice of Master Bondara. He stood next to the lightsaber master as he explained that Obi-Wan and Bruck were going to spar first. Obi-Wan nodded, showing that he was ready. He stood, sensing Bruck move to stand opposite him.

"The tournament will now begin." Obi-Wan didn't know whose voice it was and didn't have time to think. Usually, at a sparring match, you would bow to your opponent, then you would circle them once or twice to feel them out with the Force. Then you would attack. The process showed patience and precision and was usually effective.

Bruck ignored the practice and lunged straight at Obi-Wan, aiming for his chest.

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	2. War Does Not Make One Great

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews, everyone! Hope you like this chapter, though I just figured out it'll take about two more for Qui-Gon to pick up Obi as an apprentice. Oh well, the more the merrier, right?**

**Anyway, dedication. To my poor, loyal characters, who go through all the troubles I put them through without a single complaint. **

"_Your eyes can deceive you, don't trust them." __**Obi-Wan Kenobi**_

Qui-Gon Jinn was an experienced Jedi. He had trained one padawan to knighthood and had trained another. He was a negotiator and an excellent swordsman. He didn't like it when other people messed with his affairs.

He looked out over the gym. There were several pairs of padawans preparing to fight. Directly in front of him was a pair weaving in a complicated dance far beyond the younger initiates preparing in the tournament.

"You said there was a specific child you wanted me to see." Qui-Gon reminded Yoda. The Jedi master was standing next to him, his head barely coming up to Qui-Gon's knee.

Yoda knodded, his eyes watching the duo in front of them expertly. "Young Obi-Wan is nearing his thirteenth birthday. A strong padawan he is. Picked yet he has not been." He pointed his short gimmer stick at the oldest pair in front of them. "Obi-Wan Kenobi there is."

"Why hasn't he been chosen yet?" Qui-Gon could not deny that he was curious. Though he had vowed years ago never to take on another apprentice something about this boy -- the blur of movement he had seen of him so far -- peeked his interest. Obi-Wan, though taller, was not acting but re-acting. A trait of a strong Jedi, as a Jedi could diffuse a situation faster by not taking the offense.

Yoda leaned his head in his hands, his ears drooping slightly. "Blind, the boy is. But strong in the ways of the Force. A powerful Jedi I see him to be."

Qui-Gon turned away. He didn't want another apprentice. He definitely didn't need one that would hinder him. In fact, he was surprised the boy had made it so far in his training with such a handicap. No. He would not take an apprentice this year. Definitely not a blind boy.

He turned to go to be stopped by a tug pulling him back. He looked down curiously at Yoda, who had not moved from his previous position. He sighed, taking his place next to the old master. He always liked watching lightsaber battles anyway…

"The tournament will now begin." A referee droid and the one of the pair of initiates they had been watching remained while the others walked outside the playing arena. In the end, another taller, darker boy stood opposite the light boy from the battle. "Obi-Wan." Yoda said quietly, and now Qui-Gon knew exactly who the master was talking about.

The boy called Obi-Wan made as if to bow to his opponent, a practice common among Jedi fighting each other in a practice. It showed that the two were starting as equals. The other boy ignored this practice and lunged, aiming straight for Obi-Wan's chest.

Qui-Gon suddenly remembered that Yoda had said the boy was blind. The opponent had made no noise with his action, no indication of what he was about to do. He had ignored an important practice, gaining the upper hand in the fight from the beginning by cheating. Qui-Gon wondered whether Obi-Wan would be able to move out of the way quick enough.

He needn't be afraid. In a blink of an eye, the young boy was away from the flashing saber, ducking further blows while managing to slowly start attacking himself. Qui-Gon could feel the opponent begin to get frustrated, putting a barrier between himself and the force as he began a fiercer attack.

Obi-Wan leaned heavily on the Force, sometimes jumping away just in time to avoid being hit. Qui-Gon's sharp eyes caught the singing of fabric as the opponent's lightsaber glanced off Obi-Wan's clothing.

There were many gaps in Obi-Wan's opponent's defense now as he focused on his offensive position. In an act of desperation to turn the battle in his favor, he Force-pushed Obi-Wan.

Qui-Gon's hands tightened on the railing separating the spectators from the playing area. To lash out with the Force during a lightsaber battle was, not against the rules, but again, cheating. Like ignoring the bow. Qui-Gon expected Obi-Wan to finally fall to his opponent's attacks. Many fully competent initiates would be dealt the 'killing blow' here, and without the use of eyes, it was virtually impossible to get your bearings.

Of course, initiates did train with blindfolds. But training with blind folds in a practice game and competing in a tournament for an apprenticeship were different. Qui-Gon doubted that Obi-Wan would be quick enough to recover from the blow in time.

Obi-Wan landed hard on his back and, jarred as he was by the impact, immediately, instinctively rolled to the side. He felt Bruck's lightsaber hiss through the air where he had been a second ago.

Leaping to his feet, he forced his lightsaber up, pushing back his instinct to let go of the Force and fight the way Bruck was. The easy way. Instead, he cleared his mind and let the Force flow through him. _Don't think. Don't act. React_. How many times had he heard his masters say those words?

Trusting that the Force would guide him, Obi-Wan whipped the practice 'saber through the air. He jumped a split second before the 'saber whipped beneath him. He pushed the advantage of having Bruck's weapon close to the ground and attacked from above.

He flipped over Bruck, at the same time extending his lightsaber down to touch the edge of Bruck's neck. He landed behind the boy, his saber pressed fully against Bruck's throat. A killing blow. A win.

"Competition complete. Initiate Obi-Wan Kenobi winner." The referee droid declared. Obi-Wan smiled as he heard Bant's voice from the stands and Garen's shouts from the left.

He withdrew his lightsaber from Bruck and bowed to his opponent. "You fought well, Bruck. A worthy competitor." It was expected, win or lose, to again bow. To reaffirm the status of equals.

The Force in and around Obi-Wan quivered, reflecting Bruck's rage. Then Bruck's voice, low enough so only Obi-Wan could hear. "It doesn't matter who won. Soon I will be a padawan apprentice and you will be in AgriCorps where you belong."

Obi-Wan's expressive face fell at the comment, which was exactly what Bruck wanted. Laughing, the boy walked towards his group of jeering friends and out of the room.

Suddenly there was a presence at his side. "Ignore them." Garen said, and Obi-Wan could picture him frowning at Bruck with dislike. Then everything around his friend cleared as he clapped Obi-Wan on the back hard enough to make him almost fall down. "You're tired, Obi, we should go sit down." Obi-Wan gratefully followed Garen's advice and soon the two of them were sitting on the side as another pair of initiates fought.

"I think you impressed Master Qui-Gon." Garen said quietly, helping Obi-Wan bandage the small burns he had gotten as a result of the fight. "He was the one next to Yoda. He looked pleased."

"I hope so." Obi-Wan said quietly. "You've still got months to become a padawan, Garen. I have only a few weeks."

He could feel his friend step away from him. "I'm up, Obi. You okay?"

"Yeah." Obi-Wan replied, knowing that Garen wasn't talking about the burns. His thoughts had been drawn more often to his birthday lately. It seemed to be looming ahead of him and he had only four weeks to make it a good day.

Obi-Wan shrugged his tunic back on and sat listening to Garen's match. Suddenly he felt a presence beside him.

"You fought well, Obi-Wan Kenobi." The voice was low and Obi-Wan scrambled to get up, tilting his head to listen to the man while trying to determine who he was. He was a tall man, that he could sense from his body heat, and the Force was strong around him.

"Thank you, master." Obi-Wan bowed at the compliment. Then, unable to hold in the question any longer. "Who are you?"

A rumbling laugh came from the man. "My name is Qui-Gon Jinn. I was watching your match. You fought well. You used the Force to your advantage, even when your opponent stopped calling on its strength."

Obi-Wan ears turned red at the compliment. "It's the only way I know how to fight, sir." He teetered on the next part for a moment, knowing that _this_ is what kept him out of apprenticeship for so long. "You see, I'm blind." He waited for the man's reaction.

"I know." Obi-Wan could feel the Force flowing stronger around the master, interrupted at spots by sections of doubt. He was sure that if he would become a padawan, it would be now. And who better than Master Jinn? His adventures were known around the temple. He was a diplomat, but he was also a great swordsman. Obi-Wan hoped that he would be taken on as an apprentice by this man.

"Yes, you fought very well, Kenobi." The man no longer seemed to be speaking to him and with that, Qui-Gon walked away, leaving Obi-Wan to look after him, hurt and confused.

**Review?**


	3. Fear Leads to Anger

"_Our meeting was not a coincidence. There are no accidents in the Force." __**Qui-Gon**_

Qui-Gon hurried away from the boy but no matter how many corners he turned or how much time he put between himself and the initiate he couldn't get the face out of his head.

_He's too expressive._ Qui-Gon thought suddenly. Jedi learned at an early age how not to express emotion. It was important not to let an opponent know when a comment stuck. Obi-Wan obviously hadn't been taught this. And his face….

_He was hurt. _Qui-Gon shook his head, though his mind kept coming back to that. He had hurt the boy with his words. He remembered what it was like trying to earn an apprenticeship, though he'd never had to wait until almost his thirteenth birthday. For a second, he tried to imagine the panic the boy must have felt, thinking that he had only weeks left to become a padawan before joining AgriCorps.

Lost in thought, the Jedi didn't pay attention as he entered the turbolift. He had just jabbed his floor button when he looked around the compartment. "Hello, Mace." He said, a little surprised he had missed the tall Jedi when he entered.

Mace Windu nodded to Qui-Gon, his face completely impassive. "Did you see an initiate you liked?"

Qui-Gon could only shrug, though every fiber of his being told him that Mace must already know Yoda's plan to get him an apprentice. His suspicions were confirmed by the man's next words. "Obi-Wan Kenobi shows knowledge of the Force that far surpasses his years."

Qui-Gon allowed himself a small smile. He had known that this was a plan to get him an apprentice. "I do not want another apprentice. Not yet."

"Not ever." The lift doors opened and the Master stepped onto the landing. "You are this boy's last hope, Qui-Gon." The he lift doors shut, and Mace Windu disappeared from sight.

Qui-Gon could not have known -- would not have known -- that Obi-Wan had left the tournament and proceeded straight to his favorite meditation spot. Qui-Gon could not have known that Obi-Wan's favorite spot for meditation was the Room of a Thousand Fountains. He could not have known that he would run into Obi-Wan in this room.

Qui-Gon Jinn folded himself on the edge of a fountain. It was not a large fountain, in fact, it was small compared to the others, and it was in a corner of the room rarely visited by loud initiates. It was only here that he allowed himself to uncoil and strip away at the shields he always held tightly in place. It was only here that he could feel the Force truly speak to him.

Time did not pass while meditating. You could discover the one fact you were overlooking on a mission, know exactly how to fix it, how long it would take…everything…and look up to find barely ten minutes have passed. You could spend time thinking about a small exchange between a…master and student, for example…and pass hours in the company of the pulsating Force.

Qui-Gon thought of Obi-Wan. He thought of the way the boy had fought -- unselfishly, without a trace of want to show off. He fought in the presence of the Force. And that was why he won. For a moment, Qui-Gon wondered whether he could have done that at thirteen. Whether he could have put aside all thoughts of a petty exchange between himself and another and fight without thoughts of revenge or self-righteousness.

As he was thinking this, he felt some thing brush by his consciousness. In a second the shields were snapped back in place, the music of the Force interrupted by this unexpected attack on his mind. He was standing, completely alert, looking for any sign of a threat.

He felt the thing brush his mind again and pull away sharply as if it had just realized who he was. Looking around, he saw the only one who could have done that. "Initiate…" It was only the fact that he was in a meditation room that kept Qui-Gon from shouting. "Obi-Wan, please come over here." He was almost shaking with rage. _No one_ touched his mind. No one had even tried since his last training bond had been severed, irreparably broken.

Obi-Wan had been sitting on a fountain near him, not meditating, just thinking. He stood and came over to Qui-Gon, his eyes looking toward the ground. His cheeks were red, his clothes still heavy with the sweat of the battle he had fought.

He lifted his head towards Qui-Gon, his unseeing eyes pointing just over his left shoulder. Qui-Gon noticed tear tracks down Obi-Wan's grimy face and something…sadness and _fear_. Written plainly in his face.

"I'm sorry, sir." Obi-Wan said quietly, his voice just barely above a whisper. "I…I…"

Qui-Gon brought himself up to his full, impressive height, a gesture which he knew Obi-Wan noticed, even if he couldn't see it. "You probed my consciousness. Why?" It was all he could do to control his voice, though there was something about this boy's eyes that made him want to stop this line of questioning.

"I…" He seemed to be struggling to explain, his face burning crimson with embarrassment. "In order to…see. To know where I am. I sometimes send out a…wave?...with the Force. It just tells me the location of objects and people so I don't run into them." He seemed to sense Qui-Gon's rage because he moved on hurriedly, tripping over the words. "I almost have no control over it. When I'm really tired, I can't really listen to things around me. It's like my brain knows, or something, and just uses the Force to make sure I don't fall." He tried to smile, though his ears stayed a flaming red. "I still hold the record for most staircases fallen down as an initiate, though."

Qui-Gon relaxed a little. He had known that no thirteen-year-old could attack the mind of another using the Force and do any damage. "You --" Another wave brushed his consciousness and he instinctively lashed out, pinning the source under a mental attack so strong it would make anyone retreat.

Obi-Wan cringed, his head turning away from Qui-Gon in an attempt to get away from the pain that ripped into his brain. He put his hands over his head, a precaution to protect himself while his senses couldn't allow him to be aware of his surroundings. He had retracted his consciousness as soon as he realized he had brushed against Qui-Gon again, but that didn't make the pain dissipate.

Qui-Gon finally stopped his attack, realizing that the victim stood in front of him. He looked down at the boy, cringing in pain from an unwarranted attack. "Child…Obi-Wan…" Qui-Gon extended a hand towards the boy only to have him get up and run out of the room, tripping twice in his haste to get away from the master who now stood in the middle of the room, completely alone.

**A little shorter, I know, but I want to get to the good parts (unfortunately, that'll take another chapter. God, this is taking longer than I thought, but I want to do it right.)**

**So, please review.**


	4. I Have a Bad Feeling About This

"_Truly wonderful the mind of a child is." __**Yoda**_

Obi-Wan ran out of the room, his concentration such that he almost barreled over the tiny master as Yoda attempted to enter the Room of a Thousand Fountains. "Padawan Kenobi, need for haste have you?" Yoda asked, his voice stopping Obi-Wan in his tracks.

"Yes, sir." Obi-Wan twisted his hands in his tunic, aware of his grimy appearance. "I was just going to the 'fresher, sir." He bowed slightly and made to leave but Yoda's voice called him back.

"Hurt you have been, Padawan." Yoda's voice was low and Obi-Wan could feel tears sting at his eyes. He knew he must look a mess to the old master and suddenly didn't care. He felt all the hurt at not being chosen as an apprentice coupled with the physical hurt he'd just experienced plus the embarrassment from knowing exactly _why_ he didn't get chosen and not being able to anything about it plus the physical and mental exhaustion he always felt after a particularly tough lightsaber battle. And he had a headache.

He felt a wrinkled hand touch his shoulder and tried his best not to flinch. "Careful sometimes Master Jinn is not. Ones he loves pushed away are."

Obi-Wan ducked his head, suddenly embarrassed that Yoda seemed to know what had gone on between him and Qui-Gon. Suddenly, the fountains seemed a hundred times louder, Yoda's small hand ten times heavier. He managed to mutter, quietly. "He doesn't care about me." He secretly thought Qui-Gon didn't care about anyone.

"Wrong you are, young one. Confused, Qui-Gon is." For some reason Obi-Wan could sense Yoda chuckling. "Good. Confused he needs to be." The hand was removed from his shoulder and Obi-Wan could hear the fall of the master's gimmer stick. "Time he needs, time he does not have. Wait you must, young one."

Obi-Wan, sensing his dismissal, bowed again. He headed out the door at a slower pace than he had before. For some reason, the short talk with the short master had calmed Obi-Wan down considerably. He no longer felt angry at Qui-Gon Jinn. He only felt he needed a shower. He rounded the corner and disappeared into the growing crowd of Jedi and students.

Qui-Gon sat near the fountain, his mind not in his surroundings. He was not meditating, instead he was thinking of the youth he had just hurt. _He shouldn't be sneaking around the temple._ A rather desperate voice inside him debated.

_You shouldn't have attacked him._ A much stronger one countered. _He did nothing to you and you attacked him! You're supposed to be a Jedi master._

Unable to take the voice any longer, Qui-Gon got up and walked swiftly out of the Room of a Thousand Fountains. At a fountain near the door, a short green master smiled, his eyes watching Qui-Gon's progress outside.

_I just want to apologize. _Qui-Gon assured the large part of himself that was currently screaming at him. _What I did was wrong_. There was no denying that. He had been wrong to take his frustrations out on a child.

He stopped several corridors away from the room he had just left with the sudden realization that he had no idea where he was going. Pressing his head against his hands, he called on the Force, hoping to locate a boy he barely knew among hundreds of Force-sensitive beings. Finding himself overwhelmed with information, he closed off that channel, breathing heavily. The Force couldn't help him -- he didn't know the boy well enough to locate him by his Force-signature.

_I'm going to have to do it the old-fashioned way_. Qui-Gon thought, remembering a phrase used often on a planet he had helped long ago. He had never really learned what the old-fashioned way was.

Luck or fate or the Force was on Qui-Gon's side, though, because as soon as he rose from the bench he spotted an initiate who had been at the tournament. He indicated to the boy that he would like to speak with him and the child broke from his fast pace and approached him warily. "Yes, sir?"

Trying to find the best words for the question, Qui-Gon hesitated a moment before saying. "Do you know Obi-Wan Kenobi?"

The boy nodded, his bright eyes gleaming with delight at the mention of his friend. Qui-Gon continued with his questioning. "Do you know where he is?"

Now the boy stopped nodding, his face puzzled. "No, sir. We were both in the tournament, but he fought before I did. He wasn't there when I finished my match." The boy brought his hand up to the one long strand of hair that fell in front of his face, the strand that would be eventually woven into a Padawan braid. "If you want to find him, I'd check the East Gardens. He likes to draw out there." Qui-Gon nodded his thanks to the boy, who bowed in return before heading off again.

Qui-Gon, moving quickly now that he had a purpose, went to the East Gardens. There were many different gardens in the Jedi temple, each slightly different. There was the Water Garden, which was centered around a small pond. The lilies in that garden were especially beautiful. All in all, there were around fifteen different gardens, mostly because they were a perfect place for meditation.

The East Gardens were Qui-Gon's favorite. They had an abundance of night flowers, including a rare cactus that only bloomed once a month in the full moon. In the early morning and twilight it was especially beautiful, because that was when the flowers opened or closed.

He spotted Obi-Wan in a corner, sitting cross-legged beneath the heavy branches of a tree an impossible shade of purple. The boy didn't seem affected by the growing darkness of the open-air room, which puzzled Qui-Gon for the split second before he remembered the boy's blindness.

As he moved towards Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon suddenly realized he had no idea what he would say to him. For a moment he stood still and watched, trying to gather what was left of his wits.

Obi-Wan was, as the initiate he'd met in the corridor said, drawing. He used only a charcoal pencil and plain paper. From the distance, Qui-Gon couldn't make out what the picture was.

He moved forward, surprised to find the boy's head snap up and stare in his direction. Jedi were taught from birth to make no sound as they moved. Qui-Gon took another step and Obi-Wan began to hurriedly pack up his pencils, pushing them into the bag at a feverish pace.

"Please," Qui-Gon stepped out of the bush, his hands held forward in a gesture he knew the child neither recognized nor understood. "don't go. I'm sorry for alarming you." He reached out to stop the boy's departure to find him flinch away. Something in Qui-Gon's chest seemed to break at the small movement. "I'm sorry." He said quietly, before he'd even recognized the words had come out of his mouth. Then, realizing, he had to finish what he started, the tall master bent down so he was level with the child. The boy wasn't looking at him, but he wasn't moving away.

"I'm sorry." Qui-Gon repeated, his hand starting to close around the boy's hand that held the picture he'd been drawing. "I'm sorry for hurting you in the Fountain Room." He was looking the boy in the eye, though he knew it was a useless gesture. "I'm sorry for hurting you after the tournament. I was being…cold…and I apologize."

Slowly, Obi-Wan nodded, accepting the apology. He took a step towards the master, his hand that was clutching the paper held out as a peace offering.

Qui-Gon took the paper, touched that the child he had hurt so deeply would offer it to him. He took the paper and, in the dying light of the suns, was just able to make out the shapes on the paper. His own face, just barely discernable as a shape among the shadows of the paper, was completely devoid of emotion. Blank. Cold. Impersonal. He looked from the paper to the boy in front of him. Obi-Wan was twisting his hands in his tunic, his eyes focused just to the right of Qui-Gon's face, his expressive face begging Qui-Gon to understand him. To accept him.

Qui-Gon didn't have to think. Slowly, so he wouldn't startle the child, he reached for Obi-Wan's hand. "Obi-Wan," he said slowly, watching as the boy's face became curious and hopeful. "I would be honored to take you as my Padawan."

Obi-Wan's face quirked into a grin, then, unexpectedly, he threw his arms around Qui-Gon. "Yes, of course, Master Qui-Gon."

Later that night, as Qui-Gon made his way thought the dark corridors of the temple, he passed Yoda. Afterward, he would swear that the old master was laughing as he asked him how his day went.

**Review?**


	5. But the Learner

"_He doesn't like you." "I'm sorry." "I don't like you either." __**A New Hope**_

Obi-Wan tilted his head slightly, swinging the foot that dangled off the rock back and forth. Felt the first beams of the sun hit his bare foot and smiled broadly. On Aldaraan, there was miles of…nothing. No sounds, no people. Obi-Wan had learned that people, even Jedi, make far too much noise in comparison to the rest of the beings in the universe.

Obi-Wan was glad that Qui-Gon had taken him on this training mission. They had become an official Master/Padawan team just over a week ago. In that short span of time, Obi-Wan learned that he and Qui-Gon weren't exactly…they didn't really match up.

Qui-Gon seemed to enjoy being loud, his very presence was still intimidating to Obi-Wan, who could sense nothing more of his master's physical self than his height and air of confidence. Obi-Wan, on the other hand, liked listening rather than talking, making himself invisible until he had something useful to say. He was also a stickler for the rules, liking to have everything in proper order so he wouldn't trip over it (sometimes literally) later. Qui-Gon would occasionally go out of his way to make problems if he thought it would help someone, maybe, eventually. They had only had one week together, and Obi-Wan, so far, thought they were as different as night and day.

Qui-Gon was different from others in at least one important respect, though. He didn't find it necessary to help Obi-Wan every second of the day because he was blind. Obi-Wan himself had gotten over his blindness a long time ago -- for a while he had even believed everyone was blind and felt through the Force. Then, around three, he realized there was a whole world he was missing. A world where the words "yellow" and "green" meant something to people. When he realized that, he felt really left out for about a week, decided that he liked his way of "seeing" better, and got over it.

Unfortunately, when you were twelve and trying to get masters to notice you, the first and last thing they noticed about Obi-Wan was always his blindness. Qui-Gon seemed different, though. Maybe he understood that Obi-Wan being blind had nothing to do with his fighting abilities, it had made him a fairly good diplomat in the simulations they had run at the Academy, and it was simply a part of who Obi-Wan _was_.

He heard a movement behind him and practically fell off the rock in his effort to get into a position where he could meet…whatever it was…head on. He heard a gruff, half-snort and relaxed somewhat. It was only Qui-Gon. Of course it was. He was still enough to ruefully retract a thought from earlier. Jedi were _too_ quiet. All of his friends always seemed to be able to scare him by "sneaking" up on his when he wasn't mentally prepared for it. On the other hand, he was still fantastic at hide-and-seek.

"Come on, we need to get over that mountain before mid-day." Qui-Gon turned back to the camp, leaving Obi-Wan to trot after him.

"There's a mountain?" Obi-Wan asked, fascinated. He hadn't been on top of a mountain since he was eleven and had gone with a couple other initiates for a training mission. He hadn't even known there were mountains on Aldaraan, let alone close enough for them to hike to.

He felt strong hands on his shoulders that swiveled him irresistibly towards the rising sun. "Reach out with the Force. Can you feel the mountain?" The voice was impatient and Obi-Wan struggled with the Force before sending it out in a great wave, blasting it to all sides. Immediately, he was bombarded with information. There was a family of small mammals to his left, a few birds in a tree up ahead, and vast amounts of other animals in their immediate area, standing out first and foremost being Qui-Gon, his Force-signature lighting up their area. But no mountain.

He was about to send out another wave, already feeling the effort taxing his strength, when the hand descended on his shoulder again. "Just send out the Force in a forward direction. You don't have to know what's all around you at this moment." For the first time Obi-Wan thought he heard a smile in Qui-Gon's voice. "We're only looking for a fairly large mountain."

Nodding, Obi-Wan summoned the Force and told it he was looking for a mountain. He sent it out in front of him, blasting it two miles in front of him. He nearly doubled over with the information to his system. Smells overwhelmed him, as well as sounds and feelings. He heard two bears fighting, the smell of the fish jumping out of a nearby lake. But still no mountain.

"I…I still can't find it." Obi-Wan muttered, hanging his head. He had so hoped to pass this test, but there was no mountain in front of him, unless it was farther than he thought, or he was missing something huge.

Qui-Gon had already started walking away, and Obi-Wan didn't know whether to follow him until he heard Qui-Gon's call back to him. "Good. There is no mountain."

Obi-Wan supposed he should be angry for going through such a pointless exercise, but he was mostly relieved that he hadn't missed something as big as a mountain. He joined Qui-Gon in the re-packing of the camp, making sure not to leave anything behind.

* * *

Qui-Gon glanced at the by next to him. An added bonus of having a blind apprentice was the fact that he could study the boy while he was performing his tasks and not risk him being self-conscious. In fact, almost all of Obi-Wan's moves were neat and precise, taking up the least amount of motion in order to accomplish a task. Under his careful guidance, the campsite seemed to fold back on itself until there were two packs sitting in the middle of the clearing. Ruefully, Qui-Gon smiled, picking up the larger pack and the long stick he had had since _he_ was a Padawan, and started off on the downward trail.

Obi-Wan fell into step right beside him. His head was constantly in motion, turning this way at that to sounds Qui-Gon couldn't even hear. His feet were less sure of themselves and on the rocky slope, Obi-Wan slipped. It took Qui-Gon a split second to decide not to help the boy. Best to let him fall on his own here where they weren't in danger.

Quo-Gon watched as Obi-Wan rolled down the hill, his pack overbalancing him, preventing him from getting to his feet. It would have been a comical sight had the boy not banged his head, arms, and legs of various rocks during the slide. True his Jedi training, though, Obi-Wan managed to right himself 

before the long drop at the bottom. Dazed, he sat on the ground as Qui-Gon leaped the remaining distance to his Padawan.

"You should be more careful." Qui-Gon admonished, glancing over his apprentice. Obi-Wan had several large gashes, the largest cutting across his head and looking, to Qui-Gon, to be very painful. He sighed rummaging in his back for a bacta strip. When he reached out to put it on Obi-Wan's face, however, he saw the boy flinch back.

"I'm not going to hurt you." Qui-Gon said incredulously, though a little guilty from his earlier resolution to let the boy fall on his own. He put his hand near Obi-Wan's face and again the child flinched back, though held still long enough for Qui-Gon to paste the bacta on. Qui-Gon felt himself get frustrated at the whole situation. Any normal apprentice would have been able to see the slope. Except Obi-Wan wasn't a normal apprentice.

In the past week, Qui-Gon had felt himself lose faith in his decision to take Obi-Wan as a Padawan a dozen times, each whenever he discovered a new unexpected shortcoming with his apprentice. Like on the trip over. They had taken a land speeder to get to the campsite and Qui-Gon, wanting to judge Obi-Wan's skills as a pilot, let him fly the vehicle. It was up there on the most terrifying experiences in Qui-Gon's life.

Obi-Wan' method of flying was to point the craft in the general direction of where they needed to be and gun the engine. When he came too close to an obstacle (which Obi-Wan would sense within ten or fifteen feet), he'd make the appropriate adjustments, coming just close enough to each tree and rock that Qui-Gon was sure he'd die at the hands of his new apprentice.

"I'm sorry, master." Obi-Wan said, his soft voice getting Qui-Gon back to the present. "I'll be more aware from now on." Qui-Gon barely suppressed a sigh. The point of an apprentice was to aid the master and obtain knowledge from the missions they were sent on. So far, Obi-Wan seemed more of a hindrance than a help.

Qui-Gon walked away, hearing Obi-Wan struggling to get up. He readjusted the pack on his shoulders, looking directly into the sun at their destination. Like he had told Obi-Wan earlier, there were no mountains in this region. But there was an old tower in the distance, one that Qui-Gon had been taken to by his own master in his first days as an apprentice.

Obi-Wan continued to walk next to Qui-Gon, an unusual practice for a Padawan, as tradition stated they keep a respectful two steps back. Qui-Gon himself had shrugged off this particular custom with his previous apprentices, but it somehow annoyed him that Obi-Wan seemed to be taking the ancient ways so carelessly.

"It's going to rain." Obi-Wan said quietly about two hours into their silent walk. Qui-Gon looked into the cloudless sky and back at the boy. Obi-Wan must be able to _feel_ the sun, right? "There's a difference in humidity. And a lot of birds have stopped singing. There's less movement from all the animals." Obi-Wan swiveled his head. "It'll be a big storm. We should find shelter."

"There will be no storm." Qui-Gon said defiantly. He trusted his communion with the Force and he trusted his instincts -- a cloudless sky, no breeze. He didn't trust his Padawan. Not yet. Not when he knew nothing of him. Not when Obi-Wan could turn out exactly like…

A bolt of lightning struck fifty meters from where they were. Qui-Gon saw Obi-Wan throw his hands in front of his face for one moment before crouching into a defensive stance, one hand already snaking towards his lightsaber. Qui-Gon himself only sighed as something in the sky broke and a sheet of rain poured from the heavens on top of them.

"Should we find shelter?" Obi-Wan asked, his head already turning this way and that in search for a tree or rock that would protect them from the storm.

Qui-Gon shook his head, having to yell over a loud clap of thunder. "It's only a short shower. It won't be able to hold up." He grabbed the back of Obi-Wan's tunic impatiently as the boy tried to move forward. "You'll kill yourself if you insist on walking through this."

Obi-Wan shrugged and stood near Qui-Gon, his face upturned to the sky. Qui-Gon could feel the boy quiver with excitement every time lightning struck. To Qui-Gon, the scene was beautiful. Magnificent. The entire countryside plunged into chaos in a matter of moments. He could only imagine the feeling of being in the storm as Obi-Wan. Even if he didn't like the boy, Qui-Gon had to admit that the Padawan's communion with the Force was strong. The Force surrounded them now, brought to life by the energy of the storm.

As quickly as if rolled in, it rolled away. Qui-Gon looked down at Obi-Wan, noticing that he was shivering from the cold of his newly drenched tunic. Qui-Gon himself didn't feel the temperature.

"Where are we going?" Obi-Wan breathed, asking the question for the first time through trembling lips. Qui-Gon knew that he should put his spare robe around the boy but didn't.

Contemplating the question, Qui-Gon said, quietly. "We were going to a tower. It has a great view of the area. You can feel the energy of the land."

A small hand slipped into Qui-Gon's large one. He was too startled even to pull away before the hand was gone again. Obi-Wan looked embarrassed, his face flushing red at the action. "I think we already saw the energy, Master Jinn."

And Qui-Gon felt himself nodding, knowing, somehow, that Obi-Wan understood exactly what Qui-Gon had wanted him to learn.

**I know everyone was confused that Qui-Gon accepted Obi so easily. he didn't. Not even close. This chapter and the next are all Qui hating Obi-Wan. **

**As always, please review.**


	6. For Defense, Never Attack

"_Always two there are, a Master and an Apprentice." __**Yoda**_

"Again, Padawan!"

Obi-Wan breathed deeply, trying to feed his lungs as he once again pushed his lightsaber up to the starting position. His arms were heavy, his torso burned from the times Qui-Gon's 'saber had touched him. He carefully crouched into starting position, trying to gather the Force around him.

"Begin!"

Obi-Wan sprang forward, almost tripping in his haste. He sprang over Qui-Gon, rolled, and turned around.

He was lost. Desperately, he sought the Force, willing it to come to him, but his mind had closed to it. Again, he felt Qui-Gon's blade on his chest. A killing blow. With the practice sabers they were using, it only left a stinging burn.

"Get up, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan winced as he got to his feet. His tunic was soaked in sweat and stuck to his skin, irritating the burns. Small cuts were open on his legs from when he had fallen. And from the sound of Qui-Gon's voice, his master wasn't even tired. They had been practicing for four hours now, and Obi-Wan had grown steadily worse as he became more tired.

Qui-Gon's voice was so impersonal Obi-Wan felt chilled to the core. _He's your teacher, he's helping you get better._ Obi-Wan reminded himself. Even that didn't make the words any easier to take.

"Your mind is elsewhere, Obi-Wan." The words were said quietly, but Obi-Wan winced as if they had been shouted. "You are not concentrating -- not even trying. It's not a matter of stamina, it's a matter or will. You lost the matches because you weren't attempting to win." Obi-Wan's face fell.

He heard his master turn and start walking away. He, too, started forward, giving up completely on trying to draw on the Force. The Force had eluded him for the past hour. Why should it come back now? Relying on his ears, he began to follow Qui-Gon.

"You will stay here, Obi-Wan, until you are able to perform the seventh and eighth stances perfectly." Obi-Wan just barely surpressed a groan at his master's words. He was tired and sore, the bruises, cuts, and burns on his body melding into a layer of pain that couldn't be washed away by his now-feeble connection with the Force.

Hearing the doors shut, Obi-Wan wavered on the spot, indecisive for a second. Deciding it would be best to meditate and get back in communion with the Force, Obi-Wan carefully laid down his practice 'saber and folded himself into meditating position.

The training room was quiet, Obi-Wan being the only being in there. The fourteen-year-old drew in a slow, ragged breath, trying to force his quick breaths back to normal. He let his mind go blank, willing the Force to come to him, pretending he wasn't in any hurry.

The Force, apparently, was in no hurry either.

Unwillingly, Obi-Wan's thoughts traveled to his master. In the year Obi-Wan had apprenticed to Qui-Gon Jinn, he had gotten no insights into the older man. And Qui-Gon was never, ever happy with Obi-Wan's performances in class or when they dueled.

Obi-Wan desperately wanted to be accepted by his master. For the first time in years, he felt truly disabled by his handicap. He wished he could look the man in the eye, see his face as he told Obi-Wan to fix his feet, to practice or study harder, to be better. He wished he knew what the man looked like, but he hadn't some close enough, physically or emotionally, to be able to tell more than what his voice gave away.

It wasn't for lack of trying that Obi-Wan seemed to fail as a student. Once, when he and Qui-Gon had gone together on a mission and were alone on a ship, Qui-Gon had asked why Obi-Wan was so expressive. In his meditative state, Obi-Wan couldn't help but relive the embarrassing memory.

"_I didn't realize I was expressive, sir." Obi-Wan squirmed slightly, knowing he was being inspected. _

_Qui-Gon's deep voice same through the darkness of Obi's mind. "Your face. I can read you like a data pad, Obi-Wan. Has no one ever taught you to control emotions?"_

_Feeling his face flush, Obi-Wan said, tentatively, "I believe I do control my emotions well, Master."_

"_Right now, for example." Qui-Gon said, as if Obi-Wan hadn't even spoken. "Do you realize your face turned red, that you looked down, that your eyes closed and shoulders tensed?"_

_Obi-Wan shook his head, opening his eyes, trying to look to where his master, his blue eyes instead landing at a point slightly below Qui-Gon's chin. "No, master, I did not realize that."_

There had been more, much more. Even now, months later, Obi-Wan could feel his face and body change, tense, whenever Qui-Gon berated him.

Suddenly, Obi-Wan was on his feet, his 'saber in his hand. The Force had rushed back to him all at once, alerting him to an angry, pulsating mass filling the room. Obi-Wan activated the lightsaber, thinking it was Qui-Gon, coming to check on him, or maybe one of his friends, Gareth or Bant. But why would his friends be so angry?

The shot hit him before he was ready, before he even knew anything was there. Unable to stop it, Obi-Wan let out a short scream. He knew that that would give away his position...but why did it hurt so bad? Even practice shots from the droids kept to improve maneuverability only stung for a second. Obi-Wan could sense the wound in his shoulder bleeding freely, and it was deep.

Maybe Qui-Gon had turned off the safety protocols on the droid, to simulate a real mission? No...Qui-Gon would have spoken by now.

Another shot hit him in the leg and Obi-Wan fell, his leg buckling. Desperately, he put him his lightsaber. "Master, what's happening?" He hated the fear in his voice, but he didn't _understand_. The Force told him there were no lifeforms in the room. But the Force was fading as he was, as more and more shot hit him.

His whole body numb, Obi-Wan acted on instinct, deflecting half the shots coming from the four droids he couldn't see.

Qui-Gon jabbed at the button for the turbo-lift, trying not to feel bad about speaking to Obi-Wan that way. _He'll never learn if you don't teach him_.

Yet Qui-Gon seemed to have forgotten how teach. With Xantos, the praise had come as easily as the coaching. With Obi-Wan...well, Qui-Gon could not remember saying a nice thing to his present Padawan. _He's more flawed_. Qui-Gon tried to convince himself. _Xantos was quicker, smarter, more able_.

But was that true? As Qui-Gon stepped into the empty turbo-lift, he contemplated the statement. Obi-Wan was certainly capable, his communion with the Force was so strong he about glowed when he was in his element. His lightsaber skills were impressive, as was his ability to reason through problems rationally and understand complicated political and social dynamics. Yet there was always something not _right_ about him.

_His blindness_. Qui-Gon rubbed his forehead. Obi-Wan's blindness was something Qui-Gon could never quite get over. Sometimes he just wanted to shake the boy and shout _Look at me!_ Not at my shoulder, or my chin, or...But of course that was unfair. Obi-Wan overcame his disability with ease, finding creative ways to...get dressed, for instance. Or study.

As the turbo-lift opened on the floor Qui-Gon's quarters were, the Jedi pressed a button to take him back to where he was. Maybe he would watch his apprentice practice for a while. Maybe observing him would help him realize how unfairly he was treating the boy.

Frustrated, Qui-Gon knew that the root of his problems was Xantos. Even though his former Padawan had left him years ago, Qui-Gon couldn't get over his betrayal. He knew, on some level, that he kept Obi-Wan at arm's length because he expected to be betrayed again.

_I can't coddle the boy_. Qui-Gon reasoned. But weren't other Masters capable of interacting with their Padwans without finding fault in everything they do?

Walking towards the practice arena he had just came from, Qui-Gon again tried to convince himself he was treating Obi-Wan fairly. It wasn't working.

As the door to the gym slid open, Qui-Gon could sense immediately that something wasn't right. The Force in the room pulsated...wrong. As if there had been an accident. Looking ahead, Qui-Gon could see his Padawan on the floor, bleeding freely, surrounded by four droids.

Rushing forward, Qui-Gon knelt by his young apprentice. There was a pulse...a weak one...and Obi-wan's breathing was shallow. Picking the boy up, Qui-Gon pushed aside the guilt that was already flooding his senses and concentrated on getting Obi-Wan to the infirmary, fast. Because it could already be too late.

**Review? Please?**


	7. Impossible to See the Future Is

**A/N: I know it's been like, a month since I last updated. Sorry. My brother got really sick and we've been in and out of hospitals and…yeah. So I haven't been near a computer much lately. But the entire story is now written! Anyway, here's the next chapter. **

"_We seem to be made to suffer. It's our lot in life." C-3PO_

Qui-Gon sat next to his Padawan, not touching him, just looking. It had been three days since the attack. The Jedi master had spent the three days trying to figure out exactly what had gone wrong.

Impulsively, Qui-Gon pushed the Padawan braid that had fallen in front of Obi-Wan's eyes back behind his apprentice's ears. His index finger rested for a moment on top of the sensitive, pale skin that covered Obi-Wan's useless eye. "Oh, Padawan." Qui-Gon murmured, taking his hand away from the boy. "What happened to you?"

He meant, in part, the attack. All they could discern from the holographic picture of the attack was that there were four droids of unusual make involved. But Qui-Gon had also seen from that picture what the other Masters had skipped over -- Obi-Wan fought very well.

The fourteen-year-old had obviously been tired as he staggered to his feet, meditation interrupted by a sound that the cameras couldn't pick up. Even in his weakened state, Obi-Wan had fought valiantly, his defense strong. Most Padawans his age would never had been able to take out all four droids, but they had them as proof. They had lain around Obi-Wan's unconscious body when Qui-Gon arrived.

And Qui-Gon knew -- he didn't need the unblinking stare of Yoda or the strange glances of the Medical Personnel to know that what had happened to Obi-Wan was his fault. If he hadn't told his Padawan to stay and practice…if they hadn't already had an unusually long session…if Qui-Gon had felt the disturbance through their bond…if he hadn't been _blind_.

In the past three days, Qui-Gon wondered which of the two of them was truly blind. Yes, Obi-Wan couldn't see, but the boy's heart and spirit was so _pure_. When meditating, Obi-Wan's Force-signature practically glowed. He showed empathy for all creatures of all races and was _brilliant_. Qui-Gon knew that as a boy of fourteen he had not paid as much attention to his studies as Obi-Wan was.

Qui-Gon, on the other hand, had shown no affection for the boy, though the young Padawan captured pieces of his heart, more with every mission they went on. He had been impatient with him, often thinking, if not saying out loud, that Obi-Wan would be a better Jedi if he wasn't blind. Qui-Gon had been cold and distant, cruel. And while he could blame some of who he was on Xantos, some of it -- most of it -- was him being a gruff old man.

In order to learn the extent of Obi-Wan's injuries, Qui-Gon had ventured to open the bond between them…

And immediately shut it again.

That had been three days ago, and still Qui-Gon did not understand. He had only gotten a glimpse of his Padawan's mind and could not understand.

There had been pain, first and foremost, layer upon layer of pain that could not be banished. Under that was confusion, which was understandable. If the Jedi Masters could not figure out what had happened, how could a boy -- a _blind _boy -- understand? Then came the guilt, which was unnecessary. That had to be the first thing Qui-Gon said to Obi-Wan when he woke up. He had _not _failed.

But beneath that, stronger than any of them, stronger than all of them combined, was a single, solid feeling that had nothing to do with the attack. And this feeling was something Qui-Gon could not understand.

Why would anyone, especially someone he had treated so coldly, want _him_? But the pure, unwavering emotion, sitting like a planet's core in the center of the pain and confusion was _love_. Love for Qui-Gon, and a devotion and loyalty to him that Qui-Gon could not understand. And that thought, that emotion, had confounded and puzzled the old master to no end.

When Obi-Wan woke, they would have a long talk, much overdue.

A movement, a groan, a sigh alerted Qui-Gon to his apprentice. "Oh, Obi-Wan…" The soft words escaped as he watched the boy moan in pain. Bleary, unfocused, useless eyes opened momentarily before rolling shut again.

A low sound, almost a groan, and Qui-Gon had to lean closer. "Master…I'm…sorry…" Obi-Wan's breath was ragged and tears were dripping down his face.

"Padawan, no. It is I --" but a healer came in at the moment, having sensed that Obi-Wan was awake.

"Padawan Kenobi, how do you feel?" The healer was Master Lamba, a tall humanoid female from the planet Risa. She hummed softly, the notes vibrating in the air, full of sleep-suggestions. "Are you tired?"

"Yes." Obi-Wan refused to look in Qui-Gon's direction. He felt embarrassed at being hurt so easily and he could feel Qui-Gon's gaze on him. He was too tired to figure out exactly what the stare meant but he could guess. It would be accusing and disappointed. Obi-Wan was a failure in more ways than one and he knew it.

Master Lamba, after taking some readings from droids that were monitoring Obi-Wan's condition, left, saying she'd be back with a hypospray that would help. She left Obi-Wan alone with Qui-Gon.

As soon as she was gone, Obi-Wan, still averting his eyes, said, "I am sorry, master. It was wrong of me to --" but he was cut off by the sudden touch of a hand to his hair. He jumped and edged away from it, the pain intensifying because of his sudden move.

"Oh Padawan." Was Obi-Wan imagining it, or was Qui-Gon's voice sad? "Do I truly make you feel so nervous?" Obi-Wan jumped at the sound of his master's voice. In a year, he had rarely heard the tone so gentle. "Obi-Wan, I am sorry."

"Why, Master?" Obi-Wan felt his a touch on his hand and opened it, ignoring the pain as his master touched a nasty burn.

"I've been distant with you. Obi-Wan, I was afraid of you." As if anyone could be afraid of Obi-Wan. Unconsciously, probably stupidly, the young boy allowed himself to believe that this was real and not a dream his mind had come up with, as it had so many times before.

"I -- let me show you." And Obi-Wan felt something _wonderful_ in his mind. He drew back at first, then probed it gently, causing the bond to become more steady.

"I should have opened the bond at once. Oh, my Obi-Wan, there are so many things I should have done…" but Obi-Wan was no longer listening to him. For the first time, the boy could truly see his master and was reveling in it.

Qui-Gon watched as the boy slowly drifted back to sleep, one part of his consciousness still clinging to the bond as if he expected it to go away. Carefully, Qui-Gon extracted his hand from his Padawan and moved away, keeping the bond open.

There was still much that Qui-Gon had to apologize for, but now it didn't seem so impossible. And when Qui-Gon fell asleep in the chair next to Obi-Wan, the bond remained open, just in case.

**Oh, good. I hate writing Qui-Gon so mean. I really think he and Obi-Wan had one of the best Master/Padawan connections in the Jedi Order. Or a least I'd like to think that. **

**More of them trying to get over blindness, but they'll be nicer. **

**Please review?**


	8. What Took You So Long?

"_I don't mind flying but what you're doing is suicide!" __**Obi-Wan**_

"Obi-Wan, you're going to be the death of me!"

The fifteen-year-old Padawan grinned, turning his head towards his irate master. "How many now?" he asked, half out of curiosity and half out of necessity. He needed to know how many people were trying to kill them.

"Over a dozen." Obi-Wan heard the zing of a laser bouncing off his master's lightsaber. "Obi-Wan --" Qui-Gon growled, and Obi-Wan twisted his hands on the speeder, making it zoom forward so fast it nearly sent Qui-Gon flying.

Navigating the desert country was easy enough for Obi-Wan. He had a compass that would announce their direction every twenty seconds, and Obi-Wan would adjust until they were heading south-east. Then he would simply point the speeder in that direction and up the power. Once he felt an obstacle -- a rock or soldier trying to kill them -- he'd move out of the path. He usually felt them within five meters. So far, they hadn't crashed.

Qui-Gon didn't like this method of transportation. He almost never let Obi-Wan drive, not because Obi-Wan was overly reckless, but because he couldn't stomach the lurch from side to side that happened every few seconds with Obi-Wan at the controls.

In fact, at the beginning o the day, Qui-Gon had been driving. They were just trying o get back to their transport before nightfall after spending two weeks on the planet overseeing the election between two controversial Senators. Unfortunately, they were set upon by renegades an hour into the three hour journey and Obi-Wan had to steer to allow Qui-Gon to deflect the laser fires.

"You know, I could do that if you hate me driving so much." Obi-Wan turned back to his master after steering between two sheer cliffs.

"Turn around!" Qui-Gon yelled.

Obi-Wan rolled his sightless eyes. "You know it doesn't make a difference, master."

"Humor me."

A year ago, a comfortable exchange like this could never have taken place. But a lot had changed in a year. Though Qui-Gon was still the demanding master he had been, he had managed to relax enough to let Obi-Wan become downright playful at times.

Even though they were much less tense, Qui-Gon put a distance between himself and Obi-Wan. Though Obi-Wan rarely allowed himself to think about it, it occurred to him some months ago that Qui-Gon had never touched him. Oh, he would put a hand on his shoulder occasionally, to correct the direction Obi-Wan was walking in. But in two years, Obi-Wan had never felt his master's skin against his in a simple embrace.

It was because so much had changed between the two that Obi-Wan never brought the subject up. He was afraid, even after a year, that his master would suddenly revert to the cold, calculating person he had known at thirteen.

Obi-Wan grumbled as he turned around. "I don't like flying."

"Don't worry, Padawan, this isn't flying. We're lucky we aren't dead yet."

Obi-Wan sighed. "You must be getting tired, master."

"Not at all."

"At least let me help for a while. It seems like we've lost most of them." Gathering the Force around him, Obi-Wan shot out a wave in front of him. He had learned to sort through the information so he wouldn't be totally overwhelmed. His hands still shook slightly at the amount of data he was getting at once.

As usual, Qui-Gon's pulsating aura took up most of Obi-Wan's field of view. For a second he allowed himself to look at it. The blurry outline he was able to discern from the information was as much of a picture as Obi-Wan could get of his master. Behind this signature were five humanoids.

"There's only five. Come on, even a _blind_ kid can take on five people with as bad an aim as they have." Obi-Wan realized that he was whining. Maybe if the terrain had been more difficult he wouldn't have minded so much, but driving across miles and miles of sand was _boring_.

"Fine." It was a tribute to how much their trust had grown in the span of a year. Qui-Gon reached across Obi-Wan, carefully avoiding the boy's hand as he reached for the controls. Obi-Wan in turn ducked under his master's arm. If Qui-Gon wasn't going to touch him… well. He wouldn't press the issue.

Just as Obi-Wan was about to stand up, he sat, stunned. "Oh no." There was no way to avoid it now. Maybe if he had been paying more attention he would have caught on sooner. And Qui-Gon was still facing the other way, so he couldn't have know. "Master, hang on!" Obi-Wan cried, just before the speeder plunged over a cliff.

After the first few blows, Obi-Wan managed to either block out the pain or become numb to it. He was tumbling head over heels down the cliff. Next to him, he felt Qui-Gon falling in the same manner.

"Obi-Wan, try to stand!" but his legs wouldn't work. Or his brain couldn't send the right signals. Either way, Obi-Wan had no control over his body. He had no idea how deep this canyon was, but he hoped the fall would end soon.

His head cracked against a rock and he felt a blinding pain split his body in two before he surrendered to a different type of darkness.

Qui-Gon managed to right himself half-way down the gully, sliding down the rest of the way. He landed in a water that came up to his knees. The current wasn't strong at all and he merely sat down, breathing heavily.

A sharp cry from _inside_ him made Qui-Gon look around wildly for his Padawan. He tried the bond that linked them but found only blackness in the space that Obi-Wan usually inhabited. He turned to the Force, closing his eyes to better search for the now-familiar Force-signature.

He eventually found Obi-Wan face-down in a puddle of water. Fear gripped him and for the briefest instant he had a vision of the last layer of ice around his heart melting. Sprinting forward, Qui-Gon turned his apprentice over.

He let out a sigh of relief as Obi-Wan started coughing and sputtering, objecting to the water that filled his mouth. A hand flung up at random hit his face and stopped suddenly. The cool hand slid down Qui-Gon's cheek.

"Master." The one word conveyed that Obi-Wan was as glad to see Qui-Gon alive as Qui-Gon was to see him. At that moment, Obi-Wan seemed to realize that his hand still rested on Qui-Gon's face. He removed his hand as if it had been burned, putting it behind his back. "Are you hurt master?"

"You are." Qui-Gon carefully lifted his Padawan out of the stream and deposited him at the base of the cliff. "No, don't try to move. You're leg's broken."

"Yeah, I can feel that." Obi-Wan's voice was strained as it hadn't been before, his hand tightening around Qui-Gon's wrist. Still, the boy managed a faint smile. "Climbing back up should be loads of fun. Anything left of the speeder?"

Qui-Gon hadn't even thought to check. Turning around, he saw the vehicle's pieces bobbing in the shallow water. "Umm…no." His hands probed Obi-Wan's leg. "I'm going to have to set this, Obi-Wan. I'd put you to sleep but I don't know if you have a concussion. How much of a hold do you have on the Force?"

"Enough." Obi-Wan answered. His hands now grasped two rocks which he squeezed, turning his face away even though he couldn't see. "Go ahead."

Qui-Gon twisted his hands, manipulating the bone back in place. Trying to ignore the pain that seeped over their bond, he made a quick splint for the wound. "You won't be able to walk for a while." He drew out his comlink which, thankfully, hadn't been broken in their unexpected tumble.

As Qui-Gon worked to get through to somebody in a position to help them, Obi-Wan drew absentmindedly on the sand in an attempt to forget about the burning pain radiating from his leg. It was only after he'd finished and ran his hand carefully over the lines he'd drawn that he realized he'd drawn his master for the first time.

**So, so happy Qui-Gon's nice. I love these guys together. **

**Review? Please?**


	9. Out for Five Minutes

"_I think my eyes are getting better. Instead of seeing a big dark blur I'm seeing a big light blur." __**Han Solo**_

"Happy Birthday, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan attempted to smile, knowing that's what his master wanted from him, but it seemed as if every move he made caused him pain. Worse, his head pounded, and his connection with the Force was feeble at best.

With his hands secured tightly behind his back, Obi-Wan could not even reach out to touch his master. He turned in the general direction of the voice.

A jingle of chains, a grunt of frustration. "Blast this darkness." It would have made Obi-Wan laugh if he weren't so tired already. But because it was Qui-Gon, and because he was trying so hard, Obi-Wan inched nearer to the voice.

The terrorists they had been caught by weren't smart. The civilization was barely into space yet, so their devices were primitive, which was shown by the chains by which master and padawan were secured. It had been the usual diplomacy mission, to smooth out some small dispute between the two native races of the world.

Of course, it hadn't been that easy. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon were attacked and taken captive five days into the mission. By Obi-Wan's rough estimate, they had been in the cell for almost twenty-four standard hours.

Also, by Obi-Wan's rough estimate, it was his sixteenth birthday.

Too hurt and tired to reach for his now-tenuous grasp of the Force, he relied on his acute senses of hearing and touch to guide him. His hand collided with something soft.

"That's my leg, Padawan." The minute fluctuations in Qui-Gon's voice revealed more to Obi-Wan than it would to the usual apprentice. His master was winded, though not gravely injured. He didn't seem at all worried about their present situation.

Obi-Wan felt his way up the length of his master before falling into the crook of his arm. He found that he fit in the warm spot quite easily. He was short and slight for his age, and his master remained the formidable stature he had been three years ago.

He felt Qui-Gon's arm tighten around his shoulders, warming them. It wasn't until he experienced this warmth that he realized how very old he had been. "How's the ribs?"

Obi-Wan had purposely sealed off that section of their bond, so none of the pain that came from the stab wound in his chest would leak through. In truth, it hurt almost as much as breaking his leg, as he had done months before on another, similar mission. "It could be worse." He answered, truthful.

A short laugh, almost painfully gentle, and a wave of healing warmth flowed through their bond. "You always understate things, little one."

Obi-Wan smiled at the nickname, playfully swatting his master, which earned him another quiet laugh. When Obi-Wan hadn't started growing like the other male padawans had, Qui-Gon had been the first to notice. The older man liked to jibe him with names like _shorty_ or _squirt_. Obi-Wan pretended he minded, though he thought Qui-Gon must know how he glowed whenever he heard his master call him as such. He couldn't keep anything from Qui-Gon.

They lay for a time, Obi-Wan shivering even when Qui-Gon draped his cloak over him, tired, but refusing to fall asleep. He could feel Qui-Gon delving further into their bond and was too tired to try to keep him out of the place that housed the pain in his chest. The soothing, healing waves Qui-Gon sent almost lured him to sleep.

Almost.

"It's all right, Padawan." Qui-Gon's voice was alert, as if they hadn't spent the past twenty-four hours on watch.

"Hmmm?" Obi-Wan was pretending he didn't know what Qui-Gon was talking about. But he couldn't keep anything from his master.

"You're worried. You shouldn't be. These are low-level terrorists at best -- believe me, I've seen it all. In truth, we probably should have broken out by now, but I'm just _so_ comfortable." That pried a laugh from Obi-Wan.

"Everyone always thinks they're so smart. What they don't know is that they'll have another six Jedi on their hands in…oh, I'd say ten hours. Coruscant is fairly, close."

Obi-Wan might have believed him, if he had cared enough. The wound in his chest had started to throb, and a low moan escaped his lips, though he tried hard to keep it in.

Even blind, without more than a mediocre grasp of the Force, Obi-Wan could feel Qui-Gon's eyes flick to him, could see his brow furrow slightly. "Well, I guess it's not the best place to spend a birthday."

"Could be worse." Obi-Wan said again, this time through clenched teeth.

"Ah, you're right there. If I remember correctly, you spent your fifteenth birthday on a cargo ship." Obi-Wan grunted, amused at the memory even if he didn't want to be. They had been on their way to a short, long-awaited vacation with Bant and her master Tahl. Bant had forgotten to pack rations. Qui-Gon had thought it funny at the time, and still insisted on making a birthday dinner for Obi-Wan.

"There's not much you can make out of rehydrated water, padawan." Another grunt, this time almost a snort. Yes, he knew. Bant had tried to make something other than water out of it, and ended up getting Obi-Wan soaked.

"You don't seem to have much luck with birthdays."

But he did. Unbeknownst to Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan carried with him a rock his master had given him on his thirteenth birthday. The rock was Force-sensitive, and retained heat. It was the first gift he'd received from his teacher, and he treasured it.

Of course, the rock, along with their lightsabers, com links, and any other useful devices were either in the small house they had taken residence in during their mission or in the hands of their captors. Obi-Wan sighed quietly, thinking of the daunting task of making yet another new lightsaber. This would be his sixth one, if his current weapon wasn't recovered.

Midway through, the sigh turned into a yawn that even his aching chest couldn't stop. Qui-Gon's grip on him tightened even as his shoulders went slack.

_Rest, little one. And happy birthday._

**Short scene of them liking each other. More inane chatter than actual plot, but I do think it was needed. **

**Questions? Comments? Gripes? Concerns?**

**Review.**


	10. What's In There?

_**So sorry. I didn't realize my mistake. Knew that would happen sometime. Anyways...**_

_"__The Force gives a Jedi his power. It creates us and enetrates us. It binds the galaxy together." **Obi-Wan, A New Hope**_

"Master?"

Obi-Wan slid to the floor in front of Qui-Gon's closed door, the metal tray falling with a muted thud on the soft carpet of their living quarters. His grasp on the Force and his bond with his master told him that Qui-Gon was alive, but he was deep in mediation, so deep that nothing, it seemed, would lure him out before he was ready.

Rubbing his temples, sixteen-year-old Obi-Wan closed his useless eyes and took in a deep, shuddering breath. He did not want to remember the events that had led them to this point, where master sat on one side of the door and apprentice on the other, but they came anyway.

The trip to New Apolson should have only required one Jedi. In the end, five had ended up on the feuding planet. Jedi Master Tahl, a good friend of both Qui-Gon's and Obi-Wan's and master to Obi-Wan's friend Bant, had gone there on a mission and as a favor to the princesses of the world. Going undercover, she had struggled into the inner circles of an underground confederation bent on toppling the tottering government.

But that part didn't matter. What did matter is that when Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, Bant, and Mace Windu returned, Tahl didn't come with them.

Obi-Wan touched his chin to his chest, completely relinquishing his senses to the Force. The motions were so common that he barely noticed the break from the material world to that of the Force until he felt Qui-Gon.

They had been on Coruscant for three days. It had been longer than that since Obi-Wan had spoken to his master. His whole body felt heavy as it never had before, and his…disability…seemed harder to handle. If he was able to see, would this process be easier? Though Obi-Wan didn't truly believe so, he couldn't help but wish for eyesight, if only to confirm his master's sorrow.

The mourning Qui-Gon had gone into transcended words. It was as if someone had replaced his cunning, confident, often reckless master with a shadow of his former self, a droid sent in Qui-Gon's place for the Duration, however long that was. It was only now, with Tahl gone, that Obi-Wan was truly "seeing" (pun intended) the relationship the masters shared.

Obi-Wan prided himself on reading into things that weren't said. A flutter of a cloak, a brush of two hands sounded immeasurably loud to one without sight. So how did he miss on the now clear…_love_…between his own master's and Bant's?

Frustrated at his gross oversight, Obi-Wan jerked away from his communion with the Force in such a way that it took him a few moments to entice the now-slighted entity back into his favor enough to take notice of his surroundings. Though Qui-Gon laughed at him whenever he mentioned it, Obi-Wan was sure that the Force had feelings, and if you didn't coax it in just the right manner, it would betray you. By making you run into a wall. For example.

Rubbing his head, Obi-Wan sighed, his fingers skimming over the surface of the wall until he reached the data pad. Quickly orienting himself with the familiar buttons, the boy hesitated. For the past three days, he had been restraining himself from going into Qui-Gon's quarters, out of respect, but now he was faced with a conundrum…

The code wasn't the issue; all the doors in their quarters operated on the same mechanical override. Qui-Gon never had much of a love for technology and didn't notice this obvious oversight. Obi-Wan had learned the overrides years ago, and often used them to get out of his room after dark. Not that he would go much of anywhere, but Obi-Wan was a bit of an insomniac and liked to wander the peaceful halls of the Jedi temple where the quiet wasn't filled with unnecessary jabber.

But Obi-Wan was loathe to invade Qui-Gon's personal space. Only the fact that Qui-Gon hadn't come out of his quarters -- and Obi-Wan had slept outside the door to make sure -- made the boy punch in the code that opened the doors.

Unlike people with sight, a newly opened door did not expand Obi-Wan's horizon. He did not gain any new information from an unlocked door, simply because he had already known what was behind it. The Force told him that Qui-Gon would be sitting on the floor in his room, meditating, and that did not change when the door opened.

He nearly tripped over Qui-Gon's hunched form in his haste to enter the room. Regaining his composure, Obi-Wan reached back through the door and drew in the tray of food he had prepared before sitting.

His fingers tapped nervously against the soft fabric of his tunic, a habit he'd had since he was a youngling. For the first time, he was nervous about entering the Force.

Anxiously, he probed the bond that usually existed between him and Qui-Gon. Like a swiftly flowing river, it usually was bright, open, and full of information about Qui-Gon, even if he had his shields in place. Now, though…it was as if Qui-Gon's consciousness was completely gone. As if he was dead.

Seeing no other alternative, Obi-Wan cross his legs, licked his lips, and forgot everything.

The Force swirled around him, distressed, as if it too had noticed the change in his master. But none of Qui-Gon existed in the Force. Obi-Wan could not feel his emotions. As if he was dead. He took a deep, calming breath, knowing what was coming, and went in further.

The thing that stood out most in his first hurried meeting with Qui-Gon Jinn was the pain, but Obi-Wan was ready for it now. As he gently flitted by the outskirts of Qui-Gon's consciousness, he was hit with a constant battery that rocked him to the core. He could feel his body protest from the beating but continued to search, knowing that even the best armor had a small chink where a clever dagger could slip through.

The pain stopped suddenly. Panting at the exertion, Obi-Wan checked over his body, still maintaining his contact with the Force. There were some places where the skin in his body had split, causing small cuts, none of them life-threatening. Sure that his physical body was fine, Obi-Wan moved on.

He had never entered Qui-Gon's consciousness. It was forbidden for a Jedi to enter the minds of those around them, and considered an extreme insult to probe the consciousness of a fellow Jedi. He found Qui-Gon's mind intimidating, the same way the physical being of Qui-Gon often was, but that wasn't the defining feature.

A wail, low and eerie, permeated the now-linked minds. The sound seemed to touch Obi-Wan's soul, yet seemed hollow, unfinished. Empty. He was sure he had heard it somewhere -- all the planets they had been sent to blurred together, but it reminded him of a cold marsh world they had visited years ago. That place carried the same air of loneliness and melancholy that now defined Qui-Gon's mind.

"_Master?"_ he Force-called, though even through the Force he knew his call amounted in sound to a whisper. He still didn't want to disturb his master, even though he had already committed several errors just by being there. _"Master…."_

He didn't know what to do. He had the feeling that Qui-Gon was nearby, but that he was hiding, in mourning, and didn't want to talk to him. After a pause, Obi-Wan began to search for the right words, but none came to him. Everything seemed beyond useless.

"_I loved her too."_ He thought softly. It wasn't until he said the words that he realized how true they were. Tahl understood completely the limitations that came with being a blind Jedi, but she also reveled in the benefits. She understood Obi-Wan's preoccupation with the rain -- storms held so much natural energy that the air and Earth and Obi-Wan would quiver with excitement. She understood his frustration when people tried to help him with tasks he could easily do himself.

"_I know it's not the same. And it can't make up for anything, but…do you think Tahl would want you to hide like this? Tomorrow she will join the Force."_ Jedi believed four was the perfect number, and four days after a Jedi died, their body would be burned and their ashes would join the never-ending dance of the Force. _"She wants you there, but you have to get ready and take care of yourself first."_

No answer. The bond remained as silent as ever. In desperation, Obi-Wan's Force shout became louder. _"Please, master, for Tahl." _A pause, and Obi-Wan debated whether to say it. Then in a smaller voice, _"For me."_

A flicker, like an ember about to reignite, and suddenly Qui-Gon was there. With their minds joined again, Obi-Wan could feel the full extent of the man's agony before he cut the bond off, letting only the smallest trickle of emotion flow through.

That trickle was all it took to make Obi-Wan smile. It enveloped Obi-Wan's mind, _"Thank you, little one." _It murmured in Qui-Gon's voice, _"Thank you."_

**So…like it? Hate it? I think it still made sense even if you haven't read the books, but what do I know? Anyways, please review. **


	11. Bring Balance

"_Don't center your anxiety, Obi-Wan, keep your concentration here and now where it belongs." __**Qui-Gon Jinn**_

Qui-Gon did not like meeting with the Jedi council. This was no exception.

There were many reasons why he disliked it --- the council, in his opinion, were too slow to really keep up with the demands of the worlds they served. Too interested in rules, not interested enough in the people those rules serve. So what if Qui-Gon broke a Jedi law once in a while? It was for the greater good.

Which is what he was trying to explain to the council as he stood in front of them, shifting from one foot to the other impatiently, imperceptibly under his robe. Even though he hid his discomfort fairly well for a Jedi, he knew his ruse would be transparent to the council.

"So you acted on a gut instinct that went against all the facts of the mission and decided that the man who had called you in for help was in fact the very criminal you were trying to capture?" Jedi Knight Kit Fisto could not have sounded more sarcastic.

"Well, yes," Qui-Gon admitted, "The Force had warned my Padawan against him at the very beginning, but I had rejected his feelings." And he was paying for it now. As they spoke, Obi-Wan was just being released from the infirmary where he had been for four days, drifting in and out of consciousness, always in pain, because Qui-Gon, even after all these years, still didn't trust him.

"Decided to play at the game yourself, you did." Yoda said quietly, and Qui-Gon could feel the green master's approval at his instincts, if not with his methods.

Qui-Gon gathered himself up for the part of the story that cast him in the worst light possible. It was a master's job, when taking on a Padawan, to always try to keep them safe from harm. _Well_, Qui-Gon thought sullenly, _I don't exactly have a great track record at _that_ anyway._

"Obi-Wan entered the building first. Tamaki, our guide, the traitor, had said it was merely a storage facility. That was where the biological weapon was stored. A container was shattered in front of Obi-Wan and he was exposed to a large dose of a still-unknown disease. I…"

The facts continued, and Qui-Gon explained to the council exactly what had gone on in that god-forsaken lab. Even now, he got a chill as he thought of how close to death his Padawan had been.

After being exposed to the toxin, Obi-Wan had immediately fainted. That was something Qui-Gon knew would stay in his mind forever --- hearing an explosion, coming into the storage area and seeing Obi-Wan, apparently dead, on the ground. His unseeing eyes were gazing, for once, directly into Qui-Gon's own, but there was no spark of life in them, so hint of the peaceful calm that defined his beloved apprentice.

The meeting seemed to drag on for hours, though it was probably closer to one. Qui-Gon was anxious to go back to his quarters, where a healer had promised Obi-Wan would be awake, if not fully comfortable. He was loathe to leave the nearly-seventeen-year-old boy alone for even the couple hours it took for his debriefing by the council, for in the days after the accident his apprentice hadn't touched his mind once except to communicate the pain.

Finally, Qui-Gon bowed and swept out of the room as fast as was respectful. He felt Yoda's and the other master's quiet concern for his apprentice radiate after him, almost as a prayer, before the door was shut. 

The living quarters were on the other side of the Jedi temple, and there seemed an inordinate amount of obstacles in between him and Obi-Wan. Now that he was out of the council, he was once again able to try to talk to Obi-Wan through the bond they shared. He tried in now, tentatively, _Obi-Wan? Little one, are you alright?_

For the first time in days, a clear thought resonated through their link. _Master…help…_

That was all Qui-Gon needed the Jedi traversed the fifteen-minute distance between him and Obi-Wan in five minutes.

When the doors to their shared quarters opened, Qui-Gon couldn't help but gape in horror. His apprentice was lying on the ground in an awkward position, pinned down by a couch and a heavy lamp. He looked up as Qui-Gon entered the room and there was a flash of pain across their bond before Obi-Wan managed to say, "Hello, Master, fancy meeting you here."

In a second, Qui-Gon was able to take stock of all of his apprentice's injuries. He was obviously unable to lift the couch, due to the disease that had left his body unsteady and bones weak. A large gash across his forehead, presumably from the lamp, was bleeding into his useless eyes. New bruises and assorted small cuts from the fall covered his arms and legs, but what worried Qui-Gon the most was his position. The last thing Obi-Wan needed was another broken leg.

"How did you get down there, Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon lifted the couch off of the boy with little effort. He gazed down at Obi-Wan as he righted the lamp, noticing that the teen made no more to get up.

Obi-Wan's stare was aimed directly at Qui-Gon's chin. "Master, if you're going to move the furniture, please, please, let me know. I'm beginning to think you're _trying_ to kill me."

It was true that Qui-Gon had moved the furniture during his frantic pacing after being kicked out of the infirmary. He had forgotten about it, or about Obi-Wan's blindness. Either way, it was his fault.

Reaching down, Qui-Gon easily lifted Obi-Wan into his arms. The almost-seventeen-year-old was just over five feet tall and thin, just over a hundred pounds, but wiry. Obi-Wan protested at the action, but had to give up as he realized he had no strength to even jump from his master's grip.

"You shouldn't have been out of bed in the first place." Qui-Gon said, with all the force he could muster as he placed Obi-Wan on the newly-righted cough. "But since you were, what happened to your famous Seeing-Eye-Force?" Though the older man often poked fun at his apprentice's relationship with the Force, even he had to admit that the boy had astonishing control over it.

Obi-Wan turned away as Qui-Gon began poking each of his limbs in turn, making sure there were no breaks, and muttered something along the lines of, "It's mad at me."

"Come again?" Qui-Gon asked, standing up to retrieve the first-aid kit. They now kept two of them in the small apartment. For Obi-Wan, of course.

The boy sighed and tried to sit up. Finding he couldn't, he stared at the wall. "It's mad at me. The Force. Don't look at me like that!" Qui-Gon never knew how Obi-Wan could tell when the master was rolling his eyes. "It's true. It's mad that I was reckless and didn't listen to it in that Sith-like storage room. It's very proud, you know."

Qui-Gon shook his head as he knelt next to Obi-Wan. "I'm going to bandage your cut." He had to say this every time he touched Obi-Wan's face, otherwise he'd never get near it, Obi-Wan would keep jerking it away.

"Listen, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon muttered, trying to work out the apology in his head. It was _his_ fault, any way you cut it. He should have listened to his apprentice. He should have been the one hurt, not Obi.

A cool hand touched his cheek and stayed there, a sign of affection, of trust, or forgiveness. "You don't need to say anything, master, I know."

There was something missing from this conversation, Qui-Gon thought as he rubbed a wet cloth over Obi-Wan's face. Obi-Wan's already been hurt, cracked a joke, explained the Force…but they were still missing something.

Qui-Gon brought his own hand to rest on top of Obi-Wan's, and the boy's hand automatically curled towards it, like a baby naturally turned towards its parent as they walking into a room. "I love you, Little One."

Obi-Wan, tired and run down from the disease and the medicines, let his hand drop, drifting to sleep even before the words were out of Qui-Gon's mouth, but his mouth curved upwards as he settled into healing dreams.

_What would I do without you Padawan? _Qui-Gon thought, and the thought terrified him. When, exactly, had Obi-Wan become his son?

**Aww, they're cute. I know it's kind of pointless, but the thing about Obi-Wan tripping when Qui-GOn moved the furniture is just too funny. I love those guys. **

**Anyway, review. Please?**


	12. More Seductive

_"What's in there?" "Only what you take with you." **Luke and Yoda**_

Obi-Wan cursed as he tripped over the chair, landing flat on his stomach. He got up slowly; there was no one to impress and, therefore, no one to see him fall. Fail.

The Force had left him completely. He'd been expecting for it, had even hoped for it in a kind of morbid, masochistic way. He wanted to prove that he could get along quite fine without the Force --- and his master, for that matter. It turned out he was missing both dearly.

Laying his head against the wall, Obi-Wan took a deep, shuddering breath, surprising himself at how close he was to crying. Normally, he would meditate. It was the easiest way to relieve his stress and his (he hated to even think it) fear. He hadn't counted on how helpless he'd feel without the Force.

Navigating around the furniture, Obi-Wan made himself some tea. He hadn't even liked tea before he lived with Qui-Gon, though he knew it was, almost, the official drink of the Jedi. Now he was almost addicted. The tea helped soothe his frayed nerves and he breathed deeply, steadying himself, readying himself.

He was seventeen, as of this morning. He and Qui-Gon had been preparing for this day for the past month, each going over the part they'd have to play in the ritual. It was known as The Test or, to the apprentices going through the ordeal, The Silence. The entire tradition lasted for three days, the first three of a Padawan's seventeenth year. The first day, which Obi-Wan was currently on, was the Preparation. On the first day, the apprentice was expected to get used to two huge changes; the loss of their master, who had rarely left them for the past four years, and the loss of the Force, which had never abandoned them.

Obi-Wan had gotten up that morning and fallen out of bed, so disconcerted he was without the whirling, swirling, pitying Force to warn him of the edge. For other Padawans, the loss of the Force was the loss of connection with other people, other Jedi. For Obi-Wan, loosing his grip on the entity was to loose the only vision he had ever known.

Composed, somewhat, Obi-Wan took another sip of tea. Today he would rest. He was confined to quarters, to solitude, expected to prepare for the harrowing tests of the following day. After the Preparation was the Exam, where a Padawan was grilled on everything from Sciences to Literature, with an intense focus on the cultures of the various planets the student had visited in his life. To Obi-Wan, this was the easiest part. He was, as Qui-Gon had described him, a Super-Sponge. He could look or hear something once and internalize it, analyze it, and repeat it years later.

The third was the most invasive, the most personal, and the most terrifying for most. It involved exposure to the Dark Side of the Force, something rarely experienced by Padawans living at the Jedi Temple. Obi-Wan was fortunate, in some respects, to have experienced the Dark Side personally and seen the havoc it wreaked upon the people and civilizations it touched. He also knew the terrifying power behind it, the tantalizing promises it made. He was worried, not about the physical part of the ordeal, though it was often described as painful, but about the way he'd react when presented with the opportunity to cross to the Dark Side. Would he stay strong, as Qui-Gon promised he would?

Obi-Wan sighed and rubbed his tired, useless eyes. He wished his master were here. He'd probably laugh at Obi-Wan's clumsiness, finding it funny that Obi-Wan couldn't navigate a room that hadn't been changed in months. He would offer advice and, most important of all, a sympathetic listener. Qui-Gon, it seemed, believed in Obi-Wan more than the boy believed in himself. The master always expected the best of his Padawan, even when his best was sub-par. He was, after all, the only blind Padawan in the documented history of humanoid Padawans.

"Oh, Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan sighed, feeling suddenly lonely. He missed the Force, which we always had likened to a kind of very strong, loyal pet, like a large dog. It was amusing, comforting, sympathetic, and, occasionally, overwhelmingly powerful. But even more than the Force, Obi-Wan missed his master. Though the two had gotten off to a rocky start, Obi-Wan wondered whether Qui-Gon felt the same connection building between the two of them.

It was…almost…like the relationship Obi-Wan had always imagined between a father and son. Though he hadn't known his biological father, Obi-Wan hoped, and sometimes sensed, that Qui-Gon viewed him as a son. But that was impossible. Not after Xantos' betrayal.

Frustrated, lost, and feeling more alone than he had in a long time, Obi-Wan stayed at that table for the rest of the day, eating nothing and drinking cup upon cup of tea, his only reminder of his master. Another part of The Silence was the when the Padawan woke on the morning of his seventeenth birthday, all traces of his master was gone.

The night was spent in fitful dreams. Obi-Wan never knew, when he woke up, if he was actually dreaming in images and colors or if his imagination was filling in the gaps. If Obi-Wan could have one wish, it would be to see colors. They sounded beautiful.

As Obi-Wan had predicted the exams, though nerve-wracking, were simple for his quick mind. They were administered by a Jedi Knight named Kyoti Mundi, an imposing though sympathetic man who spent the first quarter-hour of the test putting Obi-Wan at ease by asking him his thoughts on The Silence. He was curious, he claimed, as to how a blind Padawan managed when the Force was stripped from them. After Obi-Wan explained, he found himself relaxed and energized and thought he did very well on the rigorous test. It took most of the day, ten or eleven hours, mostly because Obi-Wan took it orally instead of the traditionally written method. His worst spot, he acknowledged with a smirk that night going to his quarters, was the literature section. Obi-Wan didn't have the patience to be read to by data pads and therefore didn't often read books for pleasure.

Carefully, Obi-Wan made his way through the modest apartment, ruefully putting his arms slightly ahead and to the sides of him so he wouldn't bump into anything. As Obi-Wan made his umpteenth cup of tea, he reflected on how lucky he was to be Force-sensitive. It would be incredibly limiting to be blind without the Force as a guide.

Though Obi-Wan tried to avoid thinking about it, he couldn't help but mull over what might happen the next day. The third part of The Silence was one of the most carefully guarded secrets of the Jedi Council. It was an important step towards becoming a full member of the Jedi Order, the spot where potentially dark Padawans were discovered and dealt with, the exception being Xantos.

Another restless night followed in which Obi-Wan dreamed he failed he exam and reached for the dark side. He sensed Qui-Gon's disappointment, the man's features tightening as he became more close, reclusive, and cold, as he had been after Xantos. He dreamed that Qui-Gon left him, and he was alone with the Force, only this Force wasn't his protector…it wanted to hurt him.

Obi-Wan sat bolt upright on the couch, breathing heavily, face and hands covered with moisture. He pressed his watch, which announced the time as five thirty standard time. Still shaken, Obi-Wan realized there was no way sleep would come again. He stood carefully, putting his hands in front, and made his way towards the 'fresher.

After a warm shower and change of clothes, Obi-Wan felt marginally better, though his stomach seemed to have sunk somewhere below his naval. He shuddered at the thought of ingesting even tea (it was only in that instant that he realized he hadn't eaten something more substantial than that since The Silence began). Taking a deep breath, Obi-Wan departed for the final stage of his testing.

The Temple was still mostly empty, many of its occupants still asleep. Obi-Wan moved carefully along the corridors until he came to one that had a dead-end. Fortifying himself with a deep breath and the thought that if (_when_) he passed, he'd see Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan stepped in the door.

It was a room roughly the same size as Obi-Wan's sleeping quarters. He didn't sense anyone in it and hummed softly, listening to the echoes to make sure**1**. After he was positive there was no one in the room with him, Obi-Wan stood still and waited for something to happen.

The chill crept in gradually, so it took Obi-Wan a full minute to realize he was shivering. He tensed and crouched into a defensive position, wishing they hadn't taken his lightsaber. He didn't know exactly what he wanted to fight, just that there was something in the room that chilled Obi-Wan to the core and disturbed his soul.

Then the voice started, and Obi-Wan found he couldn't stop listening. It spoke of balance, of power, of the need of opposition. It explained how the Jedi needed an enemy, how they were corrupt. It's arguments were so profound, so carefully woven, so articulate that Obi-Wan felt himself inching further into the room.

There was an element to the voice. It was warm and deep, comfortingly familiar and yet incitingly foreign. Maybe it was Obi-Wan's sensitive ears, maybe it was some part of his conscience, but as he crept closer to the voice, he realized how metallic and insincere it sounded, almost as if Obi-Wan was a private joke, one that only the voice understood.

_No._

Obi-Wan backed away, suddenly frightened, and the voice pounced. It attacked his mind, his body. He felt his clothes being torn, his body pinned to the ground as a thousand sharp knives as large as sabers were stuck into his body and brain. Obi-Wan cried out in pain, struggling against the Force that felt suddenly malicious.

_Join me._ The command was not to be ignored. To disobey was to endure more torture. Obi-Wan, blinded by the pain, could still manage one articulate thought.

_Never._

A scream ripped through the room followed by a heavy, eerie silence. Obi-Wan lay panting, caught between waking and unconsciousness. Just as his eyelids began to droop, his breaths shallow, he felt a lone voice, achingly familiar and comforting, reach out to him.

_Well done, my son._

"Qui-Gon." Obi-Wan murmured happily before passing into the welcoming Force.

**Oh, this was long and hard. I always thought they did a test, didn't they? I kind of made it up as I went along, but we think it's pretty accurate. If Obi-Wan wasn't blind, the Jedi would administer a test identical to the tree thing Luke went through in **_**Empire Strikes Back**_**. Since he was blind, they had to go a little further than that. Poor Obi. **

**For the 1) I read somewhere that this blind boy actually used echolocation, like a bat, to figure outhis environment. I thought Obi-Wan might utilize that here. **

**Please, please review.**


	13. A Much Wiser Man

"_You're the closest thing I have to a father." __**Anakin to Obi-Wan**_

Qui-Gon stood outside the infirmary, fidgeting, pretending to listen to Mace Windu's half-apologies.

The tall, dark master was responsible for testing every apprentice when they reached The Trails. After overseeing Obi-Wan's grapple with the Dark Side he'd swept into the room with Qui-Gon in time to see the boy pass out, injuries littering his body.

Watching the older Knight, Qui-Gon kept his face carefully blank. "You have to know by now that your Padawan's fate is along a different path than most. Qui-Gon, old friend, Obi-Wan has a calling in the Force, one more important than I'm sure he even realizes."

Qui-Gon nodded tersely. He didn't have time to talk about the still-distant future when his apprentice --- his Obi-Wan --- was lying in the next room in pain. He wanted nothing more than to go to Obi-Wan and comfort him, but…

"Reinstate the bond." It was not a request. The command was clipped and unsteady as Qui-Gon let different, negative emotions possess him. "I need to see how badly my Padawan is hurt."

Windu sighed, looked out at the window at the mid-day sun and said, not unkindly, "The day is not done yet, Qui-Gon. You shouldn't even ---"

"I am seeing Obi-Wan _now_." Qui-Gon fairly hissed. "It was your botched testing that landed him in here in the first place." It was not a part of the test for a child (for Obi-Wan was a mere child, however old he appeared) to end up in the infirmary.

If this insult hit home, Master Windu did not show it. Instead his face relaxed from one of a superior to one of a concerned friend. "I am sorry, Qui-Gon, truly I am. I had no idea how to prepare a test for Obi-Wan's…special circumstances."

All the fight left Qui-Gon at the thought of his apprentice, lost and alone, even more so than other apprentices because of his unique, beneficial bond with the Force. For three days, Obi-Wan not only lived without the Force as a constant companion, he'd also lived without the only sense of "vision" he'd ever known. With a nod, Qui-Gon acknowledged Windu's near-apology, as close to one as he knew he'd get. Both Jedi's were proud, even if the Force wouldn't let them to flaunt that.

"Qui-Gon…" Mace WIndu's voice was quiet, hushed, gentle and he touched Qui-Gon's arm, an explosively intimate expression for the seasoned knight. "It will negate the whole of the trials if you see him now. I'm sorry. I wish it weren't so."

All the fight was taken out of the master at that point and he felt every one of his long, difficult years. He sank against the wall, as near to a collapse as he'd allow himself to get. Eyes still locked on WIndu's he said, slowly, "Twilight. By nightfall I want to be with my Padawan."

"That sounds reasonable." Short, pink, and edging on the slimy side Healer Lamba appeared in the vicinity of Qui-Gon's elbow and spoke to his naval, as far up as her head would go. "Obi-Wan is in surgery now, at any rate. It shouldn't take long and he should be near-consciousness by sundown."

Qui-Gon's mouth went dry, leading him to shake his head once again at the extent of his mother-hen-like tendencies. "What's the surgery for?"

"There was some internal damage, mostly to the chest area but some auditory nerves were disturbed as well. I would hope that his hearing would be back to a hundred percent after a few weeks but it could never fully recover completely."

This last bit of news hit Qui-Gon hard. As hard, he mused, as his apprentice would undoubtedly take it. Obi-Wan prided his hearing; it was as close as he ever got to being _conceited _about something. Pushing the thought aside for the moment he relished in the fact that his Padawan would be returned mostly unharmed. They would deal with the challenges as they presented themselves.

A touch on his shoulder caused Qui-Gon to whirl around faster than any non-Force-sensitive being to follow. Mace Windu did not flinch. "I will be back to reinstate your bond with Obi-Wan. If you want company I will certainly stay; however…"

"No, please." He wanted --- _needed_ --- to meditate. If he couldn't see his broken, hurt, vulnerable Padawan (seventeen was still vulnerable. Obi-Wan was still vulnerable) then he wouldn't be able to get anything more productive accomplished than spending the next hours in communion with the Force.

With a low bow, Mace Windu left the room. Healer Lamba, after a long, disconcerting minute of staring at Qui-Gon, also bowed (so deeply Qui-Gon thought her long ears would touch the floor) and left through the door that lead deeper into the infirmary.

Qui-Gon lowered himself to the ground, trying to ignore the gaping hole in his consciousness where Obi-Wan usually thrived. He took a deep breath, another. Against his will, his heart started to beat at a normal rate.

The Force still deigned to come to him, and he could feel the entity's amusement at his blind spot. For the first time he looked at the Force in the way that Obi-Wan often described it --- playful, proud, easily offended. He could feel the Force's laughter within him and he spoke back to it, a little stung.

_Well, I did know he was special. I just didn't…_ Didn't realize. Didn't look at Obi-Wan closely enough. It had taken Mace Windu's statement to make all the facts click into place.

The Force didn't answer back. It never did. Instead, it was a calming center for his thoughts, it made it easier for him to sort through the piles of information he had on his extraordinary apprentice. _He's always been quick in the Force, slow to anger, patient even with me. Clever and resourceful --- his blindness proves that._

It was strange how rarely Qui-Gon thought as Obi-Wan as blind. Generous, cunning, fast, amusing. Being blind was, for Obi-Wan, like being blond or scaly. Something he was born with and had learned to deal with long ago. The only problem anymore was prejudice.

_His path lies along a different one than my own._ A sudden vision was shown to him, of his Padawan standing tall, a younger boy to the side of him, lightsaber at his side and Padawan braid gone. A master himself, a Knight, a leader. His blind eyes stared at a funeral pyre that held Qui-Gon himself.

With a start, Qui-Gon opened his eyes and found himself facing Master Lamba. The small woman was staring him in the eye now that he was folded on the floor. Automatically he glanced out the window and felt his heart flip in his chest. A moon was rising in the sky. With a short groan Qui-Gon stood, feeling his joints click back into place. Another problem with the Force was that a meditation that seemed to take minutes had lasted, in actuality, hours.

"Padawan Kenobi is awake now, Master Jinn, and Master Windu is here." Qui-Gon glanced at the Master in the corner who was looking at him..concernedly. He moved forward and was bathed by the moonlight. "Ready, Qui-Gon?"

Qui-Gon nodded gratefully. "Thank you." A concession. Windu nodded and closed his eyes, as did Qui-Gon.

It wasn't a gradual thing. The bond snapped back into place at once, bringing with it feelings of confusion, embarrassment, fear, and pain from his Padawan. Automatically he sent a healing wave towards the boy only to find it was rejected.

He glanced at Windu, concerned, and received permission to see his Padawan with a single, simple nod. Qui-Gon followed Master Lamba through the doors towards Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan, at seventeen, was perhaps as tall as a fourteen-year-old, thin and wiry and looking even smaller surrounded by the large machines. He was blinking at the ceiling even as Qui-GOn approached him. "Obi-Wan?"

"Master?" Obi-Wan turned towards him, arms outstretched, and Qui-Gon placed his hand oblidgingly in them. "What…what happened?"

"Do you not have control of the Force yet, my apprentice?" He watched Obi-Wan flinch, felt his arms shudder, and wished he could have changed his wording. Though _apprentice_ and _Padawan_ mean essentially the same thing, Padawan was more of a term of endearment, more personal, and Obi-Wan was used to being addressed as such.

"No, master, it has eluded me these past days." Hands wrapped tighter around Qui-Gon, anchoring themselves there. "Master, I...I don't understand. What happened with the last Trial? I don't remember. Did I…?"

"You did not reach for the Dark Side, Little One." Wishing to make up for his error, he called Obi-Wan by the old nickname. "The Trial was…well, we'll talk about that later." He still didn't completely forgive Mace Windu, though the Force was prompting him to. Obi-Wan was in the infirmary, for Maker's sake.

Qui-Gon sat next to Obi-Wan and felt his Padawan's strength ebb. He sent another healing wave through the Force and found that Obi-Wan received it. Elated at this response, he sent a message through their bond. _I am proud of you, Obi-Wan._

Surprise, relief, love. Qui-Gon marveled again that he'd never known how special and important his Obi-Wan was. He was too pure, too good to be even a Jedi Knight. His role in with the Force would impact the Galaxy. _Thank you, master_.

_Sleep now, Little One. I'll stay here_. Before the words had traveled to Obi-Wan, he already felt his Padawan's signature join the sleeping Force.

As Qui-Gon watched the boy sleep, he couldn't help but think of the image --- the _vision_--- he'd seem through the Force. He pushed it aside, deciding not even to discuss it with his Padawan. The Force was unpredictable, and visions received by it could be changed.

Even though Qui-Gon knew that Obi-Wan was safely deep within the Force, he sent one last massage. _I'm proud of you, my son_.

**I'm going to say this to clear up any misconceptions people have about this story. It is going up to and including the Phantom Menace, but no further. This story is about Padawan Obi-Wan and his issues with the Force and his master, not about Master Kenobi. Does that make sense?**

**So, I'm sorry to those who thought otherwise, but it's not going to include Anakin or (gulp) Luke. **

**Anyway, the chapter…review? For Christmas?**


	14. Guidance

_"Attatchment is forbidden. Posession is forbidden. Compassion, which I define as unconditional love, is necessary to a Jedi's life. So you might say we are encouraged to love." **Anakin**_

Obi-Wan spent the next three months getting reacquainted with the Force.

He hated it. He seemed to be…frustrated. All the time. It was like everyone else was always two steps ahead of him, waiting for him to play catch up. And the Force wasn't helping any. It was as if..as if the entity was _afraid_ of him. It still showed him where everything was, but it wasn't playful, wasn't dancing and loyal as usual. It was, instead, like a servant, showing the way like a trained marionette.

And Obi-Wan didn't understand _why_.

He asked Qui-Gon about it. His master had simply looked at him, puzzlement mixed with incredulity. "You really don't know, do you Obi?"

"Know _what_?" It was unusual for the boy, now young adult, to become impatient or to raise his voice. He was doing both now. "Why does everyone seem to hide things from me? Everyone's been tiptoeing around me like I'm about to explode or…break down or something. Even the…the Force has been…" God, was he crying? He was seventeen --- way too old to be crying.

"Padawan…'' Qui-Gon bent next to Obi-Wan. "What's wrong?"

Obi-Wan shook his head, opened the bond between his master and himself, let all of the emotions he was feeling wash over the older man. He just couldn't express it in words. He was lost, and drowning under his own expectations. Without even realizing it, his hand came up to his left ear and he gave out a strangled laugh.

He was breaking every rule in the figurative Jedi book. He was being selfish, arrogant, and presumptuous to assume that he could be a half-way decent Jedi blind and half deaf.

Yes, he couldn't hear anything out of his left ear. When he'd first realized this – more specifically, when he realized the feeling wasn't going away, he was thrown off balance. Literally. With his perception of space thrown off, it had taken him almost three days to re-learn how to do the simplest things like how to walk or to pick up a glass.

The Force wasn't helping either. The evasive, submissive being was becoming another frustration in Obi-Wan's already frustrated life. He didn't know how much more he could take.

Through the bond, Obi-Wan felt Qui-Gon's surprise. He'd kept these emotions from his master, afraid that the man would think him weak, would revise his decision to keep Obi-Wan as his apprentice. The teen let out a strangled laugh, shaking his head at his own doubts. Even after all these years, he still thought Qui-Gon would throw him out.

Obi-Wan stood, unconsciously putting one hand flat in front of him as if he was using something to prop him up. His eyebrows came together as he reached for the Force and found it, once again, cowering just out of his reach. He managed to get to the table with only a shaky connection to the Force.

_Tea?_ Qui-Gon suggested through the bond. They had used it more and more often for even mundane conversations for fear that Obi-Wan wouldn't hear what the older man said.

_Yes, please, master. _He sent his gratitude and the small amount of amusement this simple question had stirred in him. Qui-Gon had noticed that Obi-Wan was emulating him by drinking tea throughout the day. Obi-Wan stood when the pot finished boiling and took the cup from his master, or tried to.

_Force!_ He mentally yelled, talking directly to the Force as the cup splashed burning water over his forearm and fell to the floor, breaking with a soft tinkle of glass. Why hadn't the Force warned him that he was off in his perceptions? Why…?

A small, apologetic nudge in his mind, but Obi-Wan shrugged it off. "Sorry, master," he said aloud as he picked up the pieces, aware that Qui-Gon hovered above him with a towel. "Please excuse my clumsiness." _Force!_

The guiltily apologetic feeling got stronger as the Force returned to him in full. Obi-Wan couldn't help but smile. _Thank you._ He thought at the Force, feeling the old entity return to him, the playful, loyal Force. _What was up?_ The Force shimmered knowingly but refused to elaborate on it three-month desertion.

Something flared in his mind, a red-light, coming a second too late. Obi-Wan let out a childish whimper as his burned palm was slashed open by a piece of broken glass. Pain flashed through him, through the still open bond with Qui-Gon. He hurriedly released a bit of it into the Force, making the pain ebb.

"Obi-Wan? What's wrong?" Qui-Gon's voice was carefully neutral as he said this, though the bond between them radiated nothing but confusion. Obi-Wan carefully closed the bond, sending back a last reassurance that everything was fine. He left a small window, a crack for the stream between them to flow, and allowed Qui-Gon to sense his jubilation at having the Force back, good as old.

After the Force once again became his ally, Obi-Wan's progress increased dramatically. Within a week he was sparring with Qui-Gon, the match lasting a half-hour before one of them succeeded in casting a blow to the other.

"Oh!" Obi-Wan gasped, surprised by the sudden pain in his side. Because Obi-Wan's 'saber skills were on par with most of the Jedi Knights of the temple, they often sparred with their 'sabers on a relatively high setting, enough to give a good burn to their opponent.

"Obi-Wan," Soon after the name came a sigh of frustration and Obi-Wan felt a battering at his mental shields. _You said never to let an opponent enter your mind during battle, master. _Obi-Wan sent before slamming his shields hurriedly back into place. He was baiting his master, he knew, but he was in a playful mood.

Qui-Gon was not so soft, "Padawan, you must keep your left elbow tucked in, especially when you go to flip. One, it could take out an ally," Obi-Wan blushed a little at that. He knew he had hit Qui-Gon's head with his elbow more than once. "Two, it makes you less aerodynamic." True. "Three…Obi-Wan!"

"What?" Obi-Wan said, smirking.

"You look like a dog, Little One." The nickname proved that Qui-Gon was being half-serious at best.

"Come again?" Still rubbing the burn --- he'd have to put bacta on it later --- Obi-Wan sensed Qui-Gon powering down his weapon and did the same. The session was over for today, Obi-Wan knew. Three long matches, one of them being won by the Padawan, was enough for both of them.

Qui-Gon tugged his braid and Obi-Wan swatted him away. "A dog. It's a quadruped on a very interesting planet. It tilts its head _exactly_ like that."

Obi-Wan's smirk morphed into a grin. Qui-Gon had voiced his opinion after Obi-Wan picked up the habit a few days after being released from the infirmary. He started to tilt his head, letting his good right ear hear the conversation and tucking his now-useless left ear into his shoulder. From the get-go, the small movement had annoyed Qui-Gon to no end and he was always berating Obi-Wan fondly for it.

"Sorry master, I can't hear you, what did you say?" He completely opened the bond now, letting his giddy emotions clash with Qui-Gon's miffed ones.

Something cool and comforting was rubbed onto Obi-Wan's burn, and the boy felt Qui-Gon's consciousness, familiar and comforting. He probed at a particular emotion concealed in the mess of more recognizable ones.

_Yes, Obi, I'm proud of you_. Gently, Qui-Gon lifted Obi-Wan's arms so he could reach the scabbing skin with the healing salve.

_Why?_ Obi-Wan asked, bemused. He had done nothing except bait his master.

_You never give up. You've had your entire world turned on its head and you laugh. I am so proud of you, my son._

The Force pulsating in the room shone with the pureness of Obi-Wan's joy. Using his uninjured hand, Obi-Wan touched Qui-Gon's cheek, resting his cool hand against his master's face in a gesture of complete trust, of intimacy. _Thank you._ A pause, not a long one, just long enough for Obi-Wan to savor the word before letting it out for the first time. _Father. _

**Okay, they're officially very, very cute. **

**So Obi-Wan is utterly perfect and just rolls with the punches. That's who he **_**is**_**. Obi-Wan is the epitome of all human kind, or all Jedi. So there. **

**As always, please review. **


	15. At Least It's Warm

_"Sir, the temperature's dropping too rapidly."_

_"That's right, and my friend's out in it." **Han Solo, Empire Strikes Back. **_

The warnings came too late. Both the Force and Qui-Gon screamed in Obi-Wan's mind just as his foot found a thin place and he fell through the ice.

They had been on a diplomatic mission on a snow-planet whose name was unpronounceable in Basic. It was here that Obi-Wan thrived, his essence positively lighting up the Force in the room. Qui-Gon was happy to the see the teen act so competently during the heated discussions and tried not to let his pride seep through the bond, though he thought Obi-Wan received some of the emotion.

"Master?" Obi-Wan had asked as they walked from the capitol building to their lodgings across town. It was a "warm" day for the planet, the temperature hovering just above freezing. Qui-Gon had been built for this kind of weather, his tall, sturdy body effectively blocking the wind. Obi-Wan, however, walked a few paces behind his master, using the older man's body to block the wind. At seventeen and half, he probably wasn't going to grow much more, to his dismay. Five feet and three inches was small for a boy, and though he was wiry, the Padawan could hardly be counted as muscular.

Obi-Wan's shout was lost in the wind and the boy gave up, nudging the bond instead. After four months of communication through the Force, the pair had begun to wean themselves from using the bond in conversations, thinking it more practical that Obi-Wan get used to conversing with words and discerning them with his compromised hearing.

Again Obi-Wan knocked on the bond, harder this time. He was falling behind his master, now trailing by six or seven steps. In the energy of the swirling snow masked even Qui-Gon's familiar Force-signature. Abandoning all niceties Obi-Wan busted through Qui-Gon's thick outer shield and called, desperate, _Master, slow down!_

His foot sank into a particularly deep snow bank and Obi-Wan's careful footing was lost. All his senses were being cut off by this terrible, cold stuff that muffled event he Living Force. He was sure that without Qui-Gon he would be lost in this world of white noise and sensory deprivation.

Qui-Gon had not realized he was getting so far ahead. He just wanted to get to the hotel they were staying at which was, unfortunately, a few miles outside of town. It had started snowing during the last meeting and had since accumulated several inches, reaching almost a foot in some places.

_Master, slow down!_ The mental shout made Qui-Gon whirl just in time to see his Padawan fall into the snow bank, at once becoming completely covered. Even as he started towards the place the boy had disappeared he reached for the bond…

And was immediately flooded with emotions. Panic, at the top of the list, followed by the usual perception of quiet darkness, now infused with an almost claustrophobic air of being trapped. Utterly lost without either eyes, or, at the moment, touch, and limited hearing the muffling setting, Obi-Wan was on the verge of hysteria.

_Calm yourself, Padawan!_ The command left no room for argument or complaint. As much as Qui-Gon hated to admit it, commanding was the best way to help calm the somewhat high-strung apprentice.

The Force, too, was trying to reach Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon could feel the quiet, Living Force that surrounded them center towards Obi-Wan, trying to make the boy release his anxieties. The tinkling, trembling entity stood by, nervous, as Qui-Gon reached into the snow and pulled Obi-Wan from the darkness.

Obi-Wan was trembling. The thin Jedi cloak was ill-suited to the weather, and though the tunic he had under it was fur-lined, it would be little help now that it was soaked through and heavy with frozen water.

_Can you, stand, Little One?_ Obi's trembling made Qui-Gon seriously doubt whether the shaky legs would hold the boy. Always the trooper, Obi-Wan nodded, his arms wrapping around his torso automatically, teeth literally chattering.

Feelings of agony and mind-numbing cold came across the bond, along with an ache that Qui-Gon usually associated with sickness. _Where is the hotel, master? Is it far? _Even as the message came, so did a small wave of contrition as the child realized that he was letting his impatience get the better of him. On top of that wave was another, opposite one, basically saying in emotions, "Damn it, it's cold."

Qui-Gon wished that he had let the guide come with them. The journey in the morning had been an easy one, if rather long. The council had promised that the snow could make even the best tracker confused but Qui-Gon, in his stubbornness, had not listened.

_It's not far, Padawan._ He paused for a moment before the last thought. _Can you sense it? _He acknowledged the fact that Obi-Wan had a greater control over the Living Force than any apprentice he'd ever met, than most masters. His unique relationship with the proud being let him "see" where others couldn't.

The bond was infused with something nearing laughter, though event that was pained. _The Force is cold too, master. It's hiding in the trees and ground where it's nearer to warmth. I don't think it will rouse itself anytime soon. _

Qui-Gon next step brought him onto a frozen lake. They were on the right track, at least, since there had definitely been a lake on their morning journey. They had circumvented it, then. Now, to cut time, they would go over it. As an afterthought, _Obi-Wan, the lake is ---_

Too late, Obi-Wan had already slipped on the ice, his face cracking hard against the smooth surface. The hard landing didn't seem to annoy him as much as his master, though. _Thank you, master, your warning was just in time._

_Sorry_. Qui-Gon studied his teenaged apprentice, wondering how he would take the next sentence. _Maybe it would be best if you…hang on to me. Just while we cross this lake._

_No!_ The thought was so forceful that Qui-Gon stepped back a little. _Sorry, master. I just…I don't want to be led like a dog on a leash_.

_Pride will get you nowhere. You are cold and tired and sick, am I not right?_ He had felt the sickness materializing during the negations, though the apprentice had tried to keep it from reaching the bond.

_Just a cold, master, I can still walk perfectly fine. _As if to prove a point, Obi-Wan stood, wavered for a second, then stepped out in front of Qui-Gon. Another step.

Qui-Gon watched the proud boy as he crossed the ice, hand out for balance, head cocked to get his bearings. It really was extraordinary how independent the teen could be.

His musings made him complacent. He wasn't watching the ice they were stepping on, wasn't noticing the thin cracks forming….the Force stirred, aware, making Qui-Gon shout _No!_

But Obi-Wan had already fallen through the ice.

The cold made Obi-Wan's breath catch. He was sure he would never breathe again, because his lungs must surely have collapsed. It was worse than being trapped in bacta with no way out, worse than being just cold. Here, there was no noise, no touch, no room for thought. Out of habit he reached for the Force and caught only a tendril of the panicking thing. _Help!_

Bant had taught him how to swim when he was a child, but swimming in a pool and trying to keep afloat in the cold were different. Obi-Wan felt himself drifting with a current, felt his head bump against ice as he looked for air.

_No, no! _His head beat desperately against the wall, then his fists. His lungs screamed for oxygen. He couldn't hold out much longer.

His mouth opened of its own accord and he stopped fighting against the barrier. One last thought, the thing that even the boy recognized as a dying thought. With the rest of his strength he shouted _Master!_

And the master heard. For the second time that day strong hands were pulling him from a very cold place, but Obi-Wan didn't care. He was warm, for once, and so tired and sore. The Force joined him again and he took in one gasping, shuddering breath before surrendering to the darkness.

"Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon pressed his ear to the boy's chest, to his mouth. Definitely alive, but too cold. Maybe unconsciousness was a blessing, as the headstrong teen would surely have protested taking Qui-Gon's heavy fur cloak if he had known.

Even as Qui-Gon worked fever flared beneath his hands. Obi-Wan's trembling doubled, his body curling in on itself. The Force was worried, too, and created as much of a barrier as it could around Obi-Wan, trying to shield it from the cold the Living Force was a part of.

Desperate, Qui-Gon tried to calculate the distance to the hotel. The long moments while Obi-Wan had been trapped beneath the ice had left them turned around and lost in a sea of dying whiteness as the sun set. Aware that it would only get colder, Qui-Gon reached for the Force, desperate for a sense of directions. The Force shook with anxiety, too worried over Obi-Wan's state to be much help at all.

Carrying his sick apprentice, Qui-Gon headed for the blurs that he hoped were trees. There he hoped to find shelter from the wind and snow for the night, for he had resigned himself for being lost for the night.

Laying Obi-Wan under a huge tree that had blocked all but a thin layer of snow, Qui-Gon set to work building a fire. The branches were frozen through, but with help from a few matches, the Force, and his ligtsaber he managed to thaw them enough to start a trembling flame.

Huddling close to Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon smiled a little at the sleeping boy. Obi-Wan was still small enough to fit comfortably on Qui-Gon's lap, though that was rarely the choice place. _Oh, my Padawan, stay with me tonight. _

A small sigh, a release of breath that reminded the old master of a very small child, and Obi-Wan's frozen mouth opened slightly. "M-Master?"

"Yes, my Padawan?"

This time Qui-Gon felt a hint of teasing through the bond, and a fleeting glimpse of raw and bitter cold. "'M hungry."

"You're always hungry." Qui-Gon murmured, pressing his lips to the nape of Obi-Wan's neck and blowing, letting his breath warm a particularly cold spot.

Obi-Wan's feverish face lifted slightly, one trembling hand coming to rest on Qui-Gon's cheek in what had become their symbol of love and friendship. His words were a quiet whisper that struck a chord in Qui-Gon's soul. "Ma-Master? Can I a-ask a question?"

"Anything, Little One." Oh, how Qui-Gon prayed for the night to end, for the sun to rise, for Obi-Wan not to be in this horrible, deathly state.

A shaky knock on their bond and Qui-Gon let Obi-Wan in, flooding his Padawan with as much comfort and healing as the Force would allow. Obi-Wan's own tenuous grasp of the Living Force allowed only for a brief message to be sent through their bond, along with swirling impressions of agony. _Why did you choose me, Master, all those years ago? _The words were slow, far-apart, as if a great effort had to be taken to say every one of them.

_I am broken, useless. A child of darkness and, now, silence. What good can I do the galaxy?_ Qui-Gon suspected that this display of self-doubt from the normally confident and controlled boy was a result of the fever. Still, he felt compelled to answer, to soothe.

_Oh, my Obi, you are not a child of darkness._ Qui-Gon's hand wrapped around the fingers that were still feebly pressed to his cheek. He felt the hand clench with the boy's effort to maintain the bond. _You are a child of light, a bright center to this galaxy. You will do great things._

The last thing he sent through the rapidly retreating bond was the strange vision of a slightly older Obi-Wan standing with a young boy watching Qui-Gon's body burn. A picture of Jedi Knight, an accomplished master in the Force.

As Obi-Wan fell into a deep sleep, Qui-Gon huddled over him, wishing, praying, that his child would wake up again.

**I love it when I find the title of a book inside the book. I had to add that little bit at the end, just because I can. Oh, and the whole snow/cold thing is because it's six frickin' degrees where I live and I _hate_ the cold**

**Anyways, please review. **


	16. Rescue You

"_You're all clear, kid, now let's blow this thing and go home!" __**Han Solo**_

Obi-Wan cringed and ducked as a giant _something_ rumbled just above him. He heard a chuckled from behind, a hint of teasing crossing through the bond. "That's not funny." Obi-Wan muttered, only to jump again as a child shrieked a few feet away.

"You've got to get out of the temple more, Little One." Qui-Gon said.

"Well, whose fault is that?" Obi-Wan asked, grinning. "Besides, this place sounds like a torture chamber."

Qui-Gon had put his foot down and refused to go on another diplomatic mission during Obi-Wan's birthday. "Eighteen is big, after all." Had been his excuse, but Obi-Wan knew that his master wanted him to have a normal birthday for once, one away from Jedi concerns of missions and welfare.

Obi-Wan hadn't been allowed to know the destination until they'd arrived. "What is this place?" He had asked, jumping at the many noises, the warmth of a million bodies and thoughts, old and young.

"It's called an amusement park. I promise it'll be fun." The Force was as excited as Qui-Gon, moving freely and happily through the crowds of excited people, glowing and tinkling in excitement. Here the Living Force was stronger than Obi-Wan had ever seen it.

And so he'd allowed himself to be dragged into the park, which was different from any park he'd ever been to. For one, there were no trees. Instead there were huge metal things that carried smaller metal things and people, usually screaming people. There was no water, this replaced by booths where people shot things and shouted some more.

This is what justified Obi-Wan's thought that this place was really a place of torture. The laughs and screams and cries of hundreds of people landed on Obi-Wan's sensitive ear in waves of energy. He would be content to just sit and make a map of the place in his head, content to soak up this unique atmosphere…

Qui-Gon, however, seemed even more excited than the Force, the tall master positively bouncing in excitement. "I haven't been here for years. It's changed so much…the roller coaster seems faster, if possible. Obi-Wan, we must go on the roller coaster."

The apprentice inquired to the Force to explain the idea of a roller coaster and cringed at the image of ten Force-signatures sailing on a thin metal track…being dropped from huge heights. "Master…" He said, wary, "Are you sure it's safe?"

"Perfectly safe." At Obi-Wan's incredulous expression, he elaborated. "This is _fun_, Padawan. I swear it is."

The day was hot, and Obi-Wan could feel heat radiating up from the concrete and the metal rides. He and Qui-Gon were both going _en cognito_, wearing short jeans and comfortable shirts, very different from the tunic and robes of the Jedi.

They waited in a long line to get on the roller coaster, named the Leviathan. Obi-Wan didn't mind the wait and fell into a content sort of trance as he felt the thoughts of the happy people, catching snippets of conversation and flashes of emotion through the Force.

A tap on his shoulder made Obi-Wan turn around. It was a girl, that much he could sense from the Force, about his height and nearly his age. "Hello." He greeted in Basic, knowing that was the language spoken on this part of the planet.

If the girl was startled by his blind eyes she didn't show it. In fact, Obi-Wan heard a smile in her voice as she said, "Hi. You aren't from around here, are you?"

Remembering that the planet did not travel off-world, that they hadn't invented the hyperdrive yet, Obi-Wan decided that the truth would be a little much. "You're right about that. What tipped you off?"

Her voice became low, coy, flirtatious. It was a ton Obi-Wan had heard many times before, but never when a girl talked to him. "Well, it's a small town. I know just about everyone in this line. I would remember you."

Obviously, there weren't very many blind people where she lived. "I'm Ben." He said, instinctively using a name more common to this planet. "And to tell you the truth, I've never been on one of these before."

The girl clicked her tongue. "On a roller coaster? Ben, you've been missing out. These are one of life's greatest pleasures."

"Is that so?" A call from Qui-Gon made Obi-Wan start walking towards one of the cars perched precariously on the long piece of metal. "Well, I hope you're right. I don't really want to die."

A laugh, tinkling, pretty. "You won't. I'm on the next ride. I'll make sure you've made it back safely."

Obi-Wan sat next to Qui-Gon, a little stunned at the conversation he'd just had. He didn't miss a snicker coming from his master, followed by a not-very-controlled, "Well, Obi, you should know that she was very pretty."

"Mmm-hmm." They were moving, and a horrible click-_click_ sound filled the air. The Force was nearly tangible as collective nerves built. Managing to speak over the loud noise, Obi-Wan shouted, "Master, if we die for this I swear I'll never forgive you."

The laugh that answered him was not the reassurance the apprentice was looking for.

For a horrible second the click-_click_ing stopped, Obi-Wan just had time to gather that they were very high off the ground as the car groaned, creaked, than threw itself off the cliff.

The scream ripped itself from the eighteen-year-old's throat, the fear quickly morphing into pleasure as the cars plummeted towards the ground with the speed of a ship. Then they were climbing again…and…wait, it couldn't be…

The world turned itself upside-down for a fraction of a second and even Qui-Gon let out an appreciative whoop at the feeling of weightlessness. More turns, a few quick plunges, and the too-short ride was over. "Wow!" Obi-Wan exclaimed, hand coming up automatically to pat his windswept hair down. "Let's do that again!"

Qui-Gon chuckled and grabbed Obi-Wan by the shoulder, forcing him to bend over double as the older man rumpled his newly-flattened hair. "In a bit, my very young Padawan. First, let's try something that doesn't rattle the bones quite as much, huh?"

The Ferris Wheel was nothing compared to the roller coaster, cars lifting off the ground sedately, slowly. Still, Obi-Wan was happy, swinging his feet and lifting his head up towards the sun. "This place is perfect, master." He said, absolutely happy. "Nothing could possible go ---"

Before the last word was out of his mouth, the car creaked to a stop at the highest point. "Oh, this is nice." Obi-Wan tilted his head further back, soaking in the rays. "Let's stay here all day."

Something trembled in the Force, different from the happy-go-lucky atmosphere of the day. This was worried, even scared. "Padawan." Qui-Gon's voice was tense now. "Something is wrong with one of the cars. The safety latch has sprung open."

"So they should keep the ride moving and lower the passenger to the ground. As long as they don't move so much they won't be in much danger." This was not a difficult problem, but even as he said the reasonable solution a child's wail cut through the peaceful air.

"There's a child in the car." Qui-Gon was lifting their own safety latch, starting to climb out of the car. Obi-Wan let out a low sigh before mimicking his actions. Once, just once, he'd like to have a normal birthday.

They climbed out of the car, headless to the warning shouted from below. "I will calm the mother while you grab the child." Qui-Gon ordered, swinging down the bars easily. Obi-Wan almost matched his pace, relying on the Force for guidance. "Be careful, Padawan. He's small and scared. He might try to strike out."

Obi-Wan nodded, slipping through the latticework of metal. They must be nearing the cart because the screams were getting louder, more harsh. "Go ahead, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon said before directing his attention at the mother, telling her to remain calm, that her son would be safe with his.

Smiling at Qui-Gon's words, Obi-Wan sent soothing waves towards the child's jumbled mind. The crying softened to a whimper and Obi-Wan grabbed the boy, holding him against his chest with one hand.

It was at times like these that Obi-Wan wished he was taller. The three-year-old took up more than half his body, making it difficult for him to maneuver. The Force helped, keeping the boy calm even as it led Obi-Wan down the frame of the Ferris Wheel.

A strong, masculine voice sounded from below. "You're almost there, boy. You're doing fine." The reassurances weren't needed. Obi-Wan knew that they were only thirty feet from the ground.

The wheel creaked, rattled, started to move. The child in his arms screamed loudly, hitting Obi-Wan with pudgy fists. "Shh…" He warned. Working with only one hand had not been difficult up to that point, but with the wheel moving it was becoming more difficult.

He could hear Qui-Gon behind him, telling to him to hold on for a second, that he would take the child. From below he heard someone shout to drop the boy, that they had a tarp below him. This sentiment was echoed by Qui-Gon. "He'll be okay, Obi-Wan. Drop him."

His fingers were slipping and the boy's squirming was going to get the infant injured. Asking the Force to cushion the landing, Obi-Wan dropped the child. He had barely let go before he lost his grip on the wheel and started to fall.

"Gotcha." Qui-Gon murmured, his hand holding Obi-Wan's wrist. With one yank Obi-Wan was sitting next to his master, both sitting on the beam. Obi-Wan was breathing heavily, willing his heart rate to go back to normal.

A strong hand rubbed his back, making small, soothing circles. "You'll be the death of me yet, Little One. Everywhere I go you cause trouble."

Obi-Wan smiled at him letting his body fall against his master's as the wheel continued to turn, bringing them back to earth.

**Obi-Wan needs to come with a warning sign. He causes trouble wherever he goes. **

**I was thinking about it, and an amusement park would kind of sound like a torture chamber if you didn't know where you were, wouldn't it?**

**Anyways, please review. **


	17. Fulfill the Prophesy

"_There is no emotion, there is peace." __**Jedi Code**_

Obi-Wan stumbled behind Qui-Gon, cringing at the sting of showering sparks from overhead, and pressed himself closer to the baby he held in his arms. The baby he and Qui-Gon were recklessly risking their lives --- and Jedi careers --- for.

Another building exploded into flame and the baby sniffled, though didn't wail. Obi-Wan had asked the Force to muffle the sound around the baby, to soothe it, to keep it distracted from the horrors they were witnessing. So far it seemed to be working.

He and Qui-Gon had been sent to this city three weeks ago disguised as enemy soldiers. The Jedi had received reports of misuse of authority, tyranny, and torture. As Obi-Wan and his master worked to start a revolt from within the POW camps (not technically in their orders but Qui-Gon had thought it was a good idea) they'd run across this baby.

Qui-Gon had taken to it immediately, saying that he sensed something in the Force. Obi-Wan admitted that he sensed nothing other than the obvious fact that the baby was sensitive to the Living Force, even more sensitive than some fully-Knighted Jedi.

"This baby will bring balance to the Force." Qui-Gon assured Obi-Wan, dropping the baby into Obi-Wan's inexperienced hands. "Keep him safe. Whatever you do, do not let the Corinthians see him!" The Corinthians were their captors and torturers.

Qui-Gon's people skills and Obi-Wan's gentle guidance and calm authority had led the prisoners to mutiny. During the ensuing battle the Jedi had flown from the barracks, Obi-Wan clutching tight to the months-old child.

During the weeks of captivity the master/Padawan team had been tortured on a few occasions, starved on many others. Generally, though, the Corinthians neglected their captives, perferring food and wine over crowds of hungry, bitter prisoners. Still, Qui-Gon could not have picked a worse time for the manipulated revolution. The soles of Obi-Wan's feet had been burned and he was without shoes, making each step agony. Also, while both he and his master had not eaten for four days at least, the lack of sustenance took a greater toll on the tiny, compact body of the learner than on the tall, solid man.

The Force screamed and Obi-Wan pulled up short just before something large and burning landed in front of him, cutting him off from his master. Already exhausted and suffering, Obi-Wan shifted his weight from one foot to the other, soothed the squirming baby by humming softly, and Force-shouted, _Master!_

They were on the outskirts of the city, well away from the prison camp and only a mile or so from their concealed ship. Even so, Obi-Wan felt he couldn't walk another step, let alone a mile.

_There is a way around the beam, Padawan._ Qui-Gon's message held a mixture of euphoria --- he was always happy when a hare-brained scheme somehow turned out right --- and frustration. _Think!_

But he was too tired to puzzle out how long the beam was, and the child in his arms, though only ten pounds at most, seemed to be getting heavier by the second. All the eighteen-year-old wanted to do was to sit down and sleep for about a decade.

Then the baby hiccoughed and one of its flailing, pudgy hands came to rest on Obi-Wan's soot-blackened and sweat-soaked cheek. He had to save this baby. If nothing else, he had to protect the child.

The Force quietly tugged him around the burning beam, though in Obi-Wan's carelessness and exhaustion he burnt his elbow, though he yanked the appendage away before the baby could be harmed.

Wanting nothing more than to have this ordeal over with and to be sitting in the ship with his master and a bed, Obi-Wan took off at a determined jog, praying for the Force to take away the worst of his pain.

Qui-Gon was far ahead of him now, his familiar presence nearing the ship. _Hurry up, Obi! The fire is almost to the ship! _Obi-Wan redoubled his efforts, though even that only amounted to a quick sort of limp/trot. The child fell asleep.

Something in Obi-Wan wanted to hate this baby, the second that Qui-Gon had picked up in the last year. Since around the time of Obi-Wan's eighteenth birthday, Qui-Gon had been obsessed with one of the older prophesies in the Jedi Code, a prophesy that proclaimed there would be a child born that would bring balance to the Force.

Ever since stumbling across this long-forgotten piece of scripture, Qui-Gon had made it his unofficial mission to find this child. "The Force tells me I will find him, Obi-Wan. We must believe that."

It was the first time Obi-Wan had ever disagreed with his master, and it made him nervous. He didn't believe that he and Qui-Gon should go searching for someone to fulfill a long-dead superstition, and neither did the council. Still, his master insisted on looking for the one that will balance the Force.

Obi-Wan was very close to collapsing by the time he reached the ship. Qui-Gon had just sprinted up the ramp and Obi-Wan followed, basking in the relief the cool metal gave his feet. He wouldn't fall over, he wouldn't…not until the baby was safe.

"Obi-Wan, brace yourself." The eighteen-year-old collapsed into a seat and gripped the side of the ship, gently rocking the baby as they lifted off. He knew that he was ignoring his training by giving in to the pain, but even the Force couldn't help him through the white-hot agony.

It may have been a minute later or twenty, but eventually Qui-Gon jumped to hyper space and they were cruising along in the direction of Coruscant. "Let me see the child, Obi."

On autopilot, Obi-Wan held out the baby and Qui-Gon's rough hands picked him up. "He looks healthy enough." Qui-Gon commented. "A little small, maybe, but the crèche masters should fix that." Obi-Wan merely shrugged, too far gone to actually take an interest in what his master was saying.

There was a rustling of movement where Obi-Wan was almost sure his master was putting the baby down in a bed, then Qui-Gon was in front of him again. "Water, Padawan." Cool glass touched his hand and Obi-Wan reflexively grabbed the cup and drank, feeling the liquid cool his burnt throat.

A large hand was on his head and Obi-Wan jerked away, a left-over knee-jerk response from having been tortured for three weeks. "You're burning up, Obi-Wan."

He shrugged. If anything, he felt _cold_ now, and yearned for a blanket. A tendril from the Force made it inside his feverish mind. _Little One, what's wrong?_

_My feet. _ He hadn't bothered Qui-Gon with them before, knowing that the time was ripe for their rebellion, but now he couldn't help the little whine that went into his voice. _And I'm cold. _

It may have been the first time Qui-Gon noticed that his apprentice was barefoot. Bending low, he let out a hiss of rage at the sight of Obi-Wan's injured feet. _How did you manage the walk?_

Obi-Wan answered truthfully. _I don't know_. His feet were being placed in a bowl of lukewarm water and he let out an involuntary gasp of pleasure. _Thank you_. The apprentice thought gratefully.

The two sat in silence for a time and Obi-Wan listened to the calm, even breathing of the baby, comfortable in a bed of Qui-Gon's cloaks, and the rougher, irregular breaths of the Knight. "Master?" Obi-Wan began, mouth opening in a yawn of complete exhaustion. "Why does the Force need balancing? Is it…lopsided...now?"

The Force stirred and bristled at the comment and Qui-Gon chuckled a little, brought out of his thoughts of the hundred different ways he'd hurt the people who's hurt his Padawan. "Not lopsided, no, but imperfect. If there was complete balance in the Force…well, the Jedi wouldn't have a job to do anymore."

"You mean there'd be no more wars?" The thought was incomprehensible. "But how could a child stop all that?"

"The prophesy isn't all that clear, it merely states that there will be one, more powerful than any Jedi now, that bring harmony to the Living Force. But even if there are no specifics, shouldn't we at least attempt to find this child? Imagine never having any wars, or fighting, or disunity."

"There is no chaos, there is harmony." Obi-Wan recited, referring to the Jedi called all students learned as Younglings.

Qui-Gon smiled. "Exactly."

**I always wondered why Qui-Gon was so quick at thinking Anakin was the one to bring the balance. So here's my explanation for that.**

**As always, please review. **


	18. With You

"_Judge me…do you? Well you should not, for the Force is my ally, and a powerful ally it is." __**Yoda**_

Obi-Wan had not felt so helpless since The Silence, and he worked very, very hard to keep these emotions from his already frustrated master.

The eighteen-year-old blinked slowly, willing the Force to him, asking for additional assistance as he drew a pad towards him and began reading a section on the long-dead theory of Quantum Physics. The section of science used to be part of the required curriculum before an apprentice graduated, but that practice was discontinued centuries ago when several of the principles were disproven. Now Obi-Wan was learning about it as part of his history lesson.

Though the Padawan was confined to quarters for several weeks, he still hoped to graduate with his class. He had missed the most lessons out of anyone in his grade because of his frequent missions with Qui-Gon and, up until now, he had managed to keep up with the heavy workload.

"Ouch!" It was a mere whisper, but the pain that shot through Obi-Wan's legs was intense. He instinctively reached down to rub his foot before remembering the terrible truth --- the skin on his sole had been burned completely off, and the hasty flight had rubbed both his feet raw until bone peeked through. The healers had done all they could, now Obi-Wan had to pray the skin grew back.

The Force took pity on him and wrapped a soothing barrier around his foot, soothing the burn, though not eliminating it. The sympathetic entity had hovered, worried, around Obi-Wan since they'd taken off from that forsaken planet, as present as his master was absent.

The Jedi Council had ruled that the child they picked up, though being very strong in the Force, was not the one to fulfill the prophesy. Since the decision (which Obi-Wan agreed with --- the child, now called Leluche, felt no different from any other Force-sensitive being) Qui-Gon had been distant…literally. Obi-Wan had rarely seen his master in the week since he'd taken up residence on the couch.

Qui-Gon Jinn had taken to spending much of his time in the large library, attempting to justify the prophesy. Though Obi-Wan thought the man was being very stubborn, he couldn't help but admire his determination.

Still, the child was not foremost on Obi-Wan's mind. Grand plans like bringing balance to the universe refused to take precedence over the sudden overwhelming need to pass out of the Jedi Academy. Obi-Wan was looking forward to traveling with his master full time --- he knew his future lay in diplomacy.

There were many classifications of Jedi. Many were diplomats, called to the art of negotiations. This is what Obi-Wan had been trained in since becoming apprentice to Qui-Gon. There were healers, teachers, crèche masters….the Jedi Council, composed of the most skilled Knights, all of whom had raised at least one Padawan to Knighthood.

The very term Knight meant that the Jedi were skilled fighters, though war and battle were the last routes any diplomat would choose. Obi-Wan was skilled with a blade, but less competent with the more primitive blaster, which he and Qui-Gon had begun training with before their last mission.

It was as Obi-Wan got closer to graduation --- he'd be out of the Academy just before his twentieth birthday, if he stayed on track --- that he realized how exceptionally limited his disability made him. Growing up, even when he was teased mercilessly by Bruck and his brutish companions, he'd never felt hindered by his lack of sight.

Now, though, with graduation looming and Knighthood becoming a real possibility (that was still nine years away, though…except for extreme circumstances, a Padawan was ready for the Trials around their twenty-seventh birthday). Not being able to shoot a blaster straight was fast becoming the least of his worries.

Being blind meant the whole world was made of feelings and gut instincts, and you learned to trust them. It was like walking into a room and knowing that moments ago everyone was talking about you. Maybe Obi-Wan was just becoming more proficient at sensing emotions, but suddenly it seemed as if Obi-Wan wasn't cut out to do _anything_.

And why should he, really? Just because he happened to be Force-sensitive (an understatement. Yoda himself had told Obi-Wan he had a better connection with the Force than anyone in a millennium, including Yoda himself) Obi-Wan presumed he'd be able to do what he wanted --- after all, sight wasn't needed in negotiations. In fact, sometimes seeing could be more of a hindrance than a help.

But it was how people viewed him. How every mission he had to prove himself to a different set of people, working twice as hard to be seen as half as good as normal people. The Force, Obi-Wan knew, was angry at this, too, but could offer little more than comfort and insight.

Obi-Wan was, thankfully, pulled out of his pity party by Qui-Gon himself, stomping into their quarters during the daylight hours for the first time in a week. They stared at each other for a second, eyes locked, shields withdrawn enough to have a whole conversation.

_You're late_. Obi-Wan chided softly, letting compassion flow through those words as he took in Qui-Gon's disheveled appearance.

_You're wallowing_. Qui-Gon shot back, just as gently, noting his Padawan's face, drawn with pain and self-pity. _Scootch it, I'm sitting with you_.

A Padawan with no sight, little hearing, and now at least a bit of a limp, could be worth very little to the universe, right? Why, then, did Qui-Gon, Yoda, the Force itself, take so much interest in Obi-Wan's small musings?

_Because you're usually right. _Qui-Gon's thought pushed against Obi-Wan's mind, filling it in a soothing way, letting Obi-Wan know he wasn't quite as screwed up as everyone thought.

Qui-Gon gave his Padawan a moment to digest his praise and took to examining the boy's feet. He was so angry at their captors for hurting Obi-Wan in this way, and even angrier at himself for not realizing his Obi-Wan's pain. The damage of a burn could be repaired by bacta, but because the feet were scraped to the bone even the most proficient healer could not determine whether or not Obi-Wan would fuly recover.

_It hurts._ Qui-Gon acknowledged. The physical pain Obi-Wan felt had throbbed in the back of Qui-Gon's own mind for a week now, even though he knew his apprentice was doing everything to keep the extent of the damage away from the master.

_Is it healing? I've kind of blocked everything out. _The question made something constrict in Qui-Gon's chest. There were times when Obi-Wan "problem" smacked them both in the face, times made worse by the fact that both master and Padawan often forgot that it was a problem at all.

Deciding on the truth, Qui-Gon sent impressions through their bond…_raw, calloused….don't stand, not yet…too hurt. _Of course, the one word to describe Obi-Wan's feet was red, mixed with an awful amount of black, making the appendages look dead. The only words Obi-Wan would never understand.

There was a period of silence, it's length unknown to either party. One of the few things constant in the realm of the Jedi was that time was almost always irrelevant. The Force settled between the two, wrapping them in a cushion of safety, a promise that things will turn out all right, in the end.

_Master…_Obi-Wan began. _The child…._

Qui-Gon stiffened involuntarily. Of everyone Qui-Gon had met, it was Obi-Wan who deserved to resent Qui-Gon's impetuous decision to save the baby. He waited to be upbraided, rightly, by the Padawan.

_I'm glad you found it, that we saved him. He may not bring balance, but he will be important to the universe. I also…agree…with your mission to find the Chosen One. _What Obi-Wan kept to himself was the bubbling worry in the back of his mind, summing up to the simple words _for now._

**Qui's too reckless. He'll get Obi-Wan killed one day. **

**Anyways, please review.**


	19. Scoundral

"_Why you stuck-up, half-witted, scruffy-looking nerf hearder!"_

"_Hey…who're you calling 'scruffy looking'?" __**Leia and Han, Empire Strikes Back**_

Obi-Wan was nineteen years old when he had his first and last night of "hard" drinking.

Surprisingly, he didn't sneak out on a binge with friends. He'd actually been dragged kicking and screaming (figuratively. Obi-Wan was soft-spoken and obedient, but still…) from his studies. By his master, no less. In the beginning, the thought was not to go to a bar and drink away past pains. Qui-Gon had only been looking for a night outside.

"It's cool tonight, Obi-Wan, and beautiful."

Obi-Wan looked over the edge of his data pad, pressing the _pause_ button so the voice stopped. He was studying for final exams in six weeks and tonight's topic was on the piloting and navigation of a star ship, something Obi-Wan had difficulty grasping with his unique view of stars (huge masses of energy, almost as immense as the Force itself). Qui-Gon was expectant, eager for a night on the town. "Master…" Obi-Wan said slowly. "I don't believe Coruscant is the best planet for…sightseeing?"

This was nothing but the truth, as the whole planet was essentially one big city. They had certainly been to cleaner planets, and Obi-Wan acquainted good smells and interesting textures to beauty. There was nothing in the city but buildings and crowds, things Obi-Wan tended to avoid.

"We're only off for another week, Little One. We might as well make the most of it."

Obi-Wan was making the most of it. Their frequent missions gave him little time for study or friends. Obi-Wan had planned on another two hours of study before meeting Bant for a cup of tea and a nice chat. What he hadn't planned on was a troop into the city.

But, as always, Obi-Wan couldn't resist his master. Not when he was pleading for something. "Just give me a minute, master, and I'll get my coat."

"I got it for you." A lump of cloth thudded onto Obi-Wan's stomach. Closing his eyes (a formality. He kept his eyes upon only because Qui-Gon always reminded him it was rude to appear bored during negotiations) Obi-Wan called the dozing Force to him, requesting a night of assistance.

The two men left the Jedi temple in due course, passing several Jedi, none of whom Obi-Wan was familiar with. He felt a pang of sudden longing as he wished for a less turbulent lifestyle, or at least time to make some new friendships.

"Where are you planning on going, master?" Obi-Wan was used to the near-run he had to use to keep up with Qui-Gon's slow pace. He never regretted his short stature, which seemed permanently fixed at a little over five feet, but he often wished for speed to keep up with the older man.

Qui-Gon glanced at his protégé smiling at the boy's perking interest. He and Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon now knew, were cut of the same cloth. Both explorers, even when they tried to deny their nomadic lifestyles. Neither could resist the smell of adventure. "There's a concert being held in the center of town. I thought you needed to get out of the Temple."

In his years traveling with Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan had been to many concerts on many different worlds, each one different from the last. He never ceased to enjoy them, for even with his bad ear he had exceptional hearing and an ear for good music. "That sounds interesting, sir."

Again, looking at the Padawan, Qui-Gon asked, concerned, "When did you last eat, Obi-Wan?"

"I had some tea this afternoon ---"

"I mean a real meal." Obi-Wan cooked breakfast every morning, a task he was skilled at and took pleasure in, which was fine with Qui-Gon, who was renowned for his ability to burn water, but he rarely partook in the goods himself, preferring to use the time before class to study or go through his _katas_.

Obi-Wan unknowingly pursed his lips and frowned, making Qui-Gon smile. The boy was a skilled the negotiator, the finest Qui-Gon had ever seen, but he had no poker face. Everyone could see right through him. "We're stopping for dinner, kid."

"Oh…" Obi-Wan looked downhearted. "Will we miss the concert? Is it very late?" He had forgotten his watch, and though he had an excellent sense of time he could not, as others, look at the sky to judfe the time.

"We have plenty of time. Here's a place right now." Not really a _place_. More like a _bar_. But Obi-Wan needn't know that until they sat down. The boy was too polite to leave an establishment after entering.

Obi-Wan's sensitive nose wrinkled at the pungent odors of various alcohols, particularly Narmanian Liquor, which induced temporary euphoria before the drinker dissolved into tears, that permeated the air. _Master, are we at a _bar_? _The question as incredulous and flitted across Qui-Gon's consciousness, stamping on his mind a tone of disapproval.

_For your information, this place has the best burgers this side of Endor_. But it wasn't only burgers Qui-Gon ordered. The Knight requested two bottles of ale be brought to their table. The master was studying his apprentice seriously, noting pale skin, sensitive skin that could tell the difference between his master's arm and the arm of master Yoda and the arm of Mace Windu. He noted Obi-Wan's calm demeanor and alert expression and realized, with a start, that this boy, _his_ boy for all respects and purposes, was becoming a man.

"When did you begin to grow?" The question was brought on several minutes later after Qui-Gon consumed a quarter of his burger and two thirds of the ale.

Obi-Wan stiffened, smiled loosely. The ale affected him, too, though he'd drunk less than half the amount his master had. "Is this a short people joke?"

"No, seriously. The last time I saw you, you were twelve, shorter, if that's possible. With cute fat cheeks and big, bright eyes."

"Useless eyes, and I could hear back then." That was as close as Qui-Gon had ever seen Obi-Wan come to being bitter about his handicaps. Usually Obi-Wan rolled with the punches. Sometimes he managed to duck the punches all together. But never was he sore about being hit, rather he learned from the experience with quiet dignity and moved on.

Qui-Gon was feeling sentimental, and the gulp of beer he'd just downed helped that. He reached to touch Obi-Wan's hand, a rare thing as it unsettled Obi-Wan immensely to be touched…messed up his spatial relations, or something. "Hey, useless or not, you're important to me."

Obi-Wan cocked his head and squinted. It was at times like these that Qui-Gon would swear the boy could see. "You're drunk, master." It was a fact, stated plainly and with more than a bit of laughter.

"A little. And why do you call me 'master' all the time?" It was something he'd been meaning to address with to the boy. Most Master/Padawan teams referred to each other by their names, not their titles, after the Padawan had graduated from the Academy, but Obi-Wan wasn't letting go of the habit.

The pale boy shrugged. "You're my master, why should I call you anything different?" But against his (admittedly feeble, at this point, inebriated as he was) shields brushed another thought, and Qui-Gon snatched it.

_I don't like change, master. It's a failing that I fear will keep me from becoming a Knight._ This was a rational fear, at least for Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon had no end to the respect he held the boy in, if only because he chose this hard, nomadic life that was made so much harder because he had to acquaint himself with each new surrounding.

Qui-Gon studied his drink for a second. It was his third, and Obi-Wan had just started in on his second. Due to the boy's small size, he was probably more drunk that Qui-Gon. "Obi, I just remembered a joke Mace told me…oh, it must have been years ago…"

"What?" Obi-Wan's eyes were heavy-lidded with a drunken stupor, yet his face still managed to be fine, bright, while Qui-Gon's blunter features had twisted and warped until he looked aged ten years.

"Okay…yes, here it is." Qui-Gon took a deep breath, another swig of ale. "Two guys walk into a bar. The third one ducks."

Obi-Wan looked at him for a second before bursting into a peal of hysterical giggles that quickly became hiccups. "Oh, master, that's a terrible joke."

"Wait, there's more." Qui-Gon glanced into the depths of his drink, as if that would help him remember the joke. "A Denoblian goes up to the bar tender at the Cantina on Tatooine. He asks him the quickest way to Endor. The bar tender asks the Denoblian whether he's using his hyper drive or cruising, and the Denoblian says he's going into hyperspace. The bar tender says, 'well, that's the quickest way.'"

This time, Obi-Wan's hiccups became uncontrollable and he dipped his head into his drink to stop them. _Master, I love you_. The words were sincere, and Qui-Gon, even in his drunken state, recognized them as words to remember.

"One more, Padawan…A Wookie walks into a bar and asks for a loaf of bread. The bartender tells him there is no bread, and the Wookie thanks him and leaves. The next day the same Wookie walks in looking for bread, and the bartender tells him that they don't serve bread, so the Wookie thanks him and leaves. The day after, the Wookie comes in asking after a loaf of bread. The bartender tells him that they have no bread, will never have any bread, and if he ever asks for bread again he'll shoot the Wookie with his blaster.

"The Wookie thinks about this for a moment and asks if the man has a blaster. The bartender says he doesn't.

"'Good,' says the Wookie, 'Got any bread?'"

Looking up, Qui-Gon realized his audience had fallen asleep. With his head pillowed on the hood of his cloak and one hand grasping the handle of the glass, Obi-Wan looked much younger than nineteen. Fifteen, maybe, or twelve. Smiling, sighing, and knowing his Padawan would be sore in the morning, both from the drinks and for missing the concert, Qui-Gon stood.

Draping the boy's arm over his shoulder, Qui-Gon ventured, stumbling, into the waiting city, making sure to protect Obi-Wan's head. He didn't look back.

**Obi-Wan needs to loosen up a little. BTW: The next chapter is really cute. **

**And our favorite bar joke is**_** An Irishman walks out of a bar…hey, it could happen. **_**Either that or the panda joke. Any other good ones?**

**Anyway, review. **


	20. Your Life

"_When nine hundred years you reach, look as good you will not." __**Yoda**_

The twentieth birthday of a Jedi Apprentice is important for many reasons.

Not only did they officially graduate from the Academy to continue their lives with their masters, but it is also the midpoint of the training between and master and Padawan. Though in modern days the system had fluctuated a little, it is still customary to take an apprentice at age thirteen and put them through the Trials at twenty-seven. The fourteen years of learning was marked at the half-way point by the Ritual.

There were many names for the Ritual, which took place on the Padawan's twentieth birthday. Like The Silence on their sixteenth, it was an important day for the master/Padawan team. The Jedi usually referred to the event as _Caro_. The beloved. Those who are loved.

Masters and Padawans both worked to find or create the perfect gift for each other. Some bought items from shops, others found souvenirs from the many planets the team invariably visited. Still others made the gifts by hand, slaving for hours and pouring their soul into the perfect present.

Obi-Wan had thought long about what he would present his master, who was still gripped in the throes of his mission to find the Chosen One. It wouldn't surprise the young man a bit if his master had completely forgotten _Caro_, but he, Obi-Wan, wouldn't forget.

Occasionally Obi-Wan took up the old, calming practice of drawing. He knew that the sketches must be crude as he couldn't see the work he made. The Force guided him gently, showing him pictures of things long past, things yet to come. Sometimes he would draw only to be told that he had accidently stumbled upon somebody's secret…a young man woven into a strand of hair, a bright diamond ring forgotten in the waves…

Still, Obi-Wan wasn't sure if this was the right gift, for could it be perfect if Obi-Wan himself didn't now what he was drawing? The Force, in its flighty, fickle way, refused to guide him in projects of his own pursuit, instead tracing far-off battles and men not yet born.

But Qui-Gon put great stock in Obi-Wan's visions, often letting the apprentice's "fifth sense" (so named because Obi-Wan, technically, possessed only four) take control in dire situations. Obi-Wan hoped that, for this reason, Qui-Gon would appreciate the gift.

As the day drew nearer, Obi-Wan found himself becoming more and more sure that Qui-Gon had forgotten _Caro_. His master was gone so often from their quarters, often coming back in the early morning or not at all, that Obi-Wan was worried he would not see the man at all on the day in question.

While he had been stealing himself for disappointment, waking up on his twentieth birthday to find and empty apartment was a blow. Obi-Wan stretched and stood, looking down at the papers in front of him. Though his exams were in a scant few weeks, he had spent the past three months making a portfolio of drawings he hoped Qui-Gon would like. Unwilling to attempt coloring the black-and-white sketches, Obi-Wan had left them as the Force dictated, praying that they made some sense and weren't just meaningless scribbles.

As Obi-Wan put a simple breakfast of bread, cheese, and tea together, he considered once again the merits of presenting Qui-Gon with a clumsy present. Even though he knew Qui-Gon found Obi-Wan's visions a lot more interesting and important than the trainee ever would, he still wondered whether this present was for Qui-Gon or for him, Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan nursed a cup of hot tea between his cold hands, letting the liquid warm his fingers as he listened to a holo-disk about botany. One of the reasons why Obi-Wan needed so much time to study was because he needed to listen to all his courses instead of reading. Of course, the upside to this was that he'd developed a near rote memory, able to spew off long lists of items he'd heard years before merely because it was illogical for him to take notes.

"Good morning, Padawan." Qui-Gon's voice interrupted Obi-Wan's thoughts with the subtlety of a train crash. The boy jumped, knocking over the tea and causing the Force to cry out sharply.

Turning slightly, unconsciously, so that his good ear was towards his master, Obi-Wan picked up the jagged glass, hoping that no tea had ruined his drawings. He sliced one finger on the glass but barely noticed --- such things were the norm when sight was impossible.

A large, warm hand brushed his tiny ones away from the wreckage. "Oh, Little One, must you always be so clumsy? Where was your mind _today_?" The gentle chide was meant in jest but, as always, Obi-Wan's cheeks reddened with embarrassment. Qui-Gon never missed the moments when the Padawan was distracted.

Obi-Wan had instinctively put his bleeding finger in his mouth and sucked the wound until the blood clotted. The Force wrapped protectively around the cut and Obi-Wan was sure that it would be healed soon. "I'm sorry, master…" Had Qui-Gon really forgotten _Caro_? Had he forgotten Obi-Wan's birthday?

As the student poured tea, he felt the table move slightly as Qui-Gon sat at the table. Obi-Wan fidgeted and was finally about to burst, about to ignore all rules of decorum in order to ask the question burning his throat. Just as he opened his mouth, Qui-Gon's consciousness enveloped Obi-Wan's, quietly laughing. _I haven't forgotten, Little One. Drink your tea._

Obi-Wan smiled and sipped the drink, happy that his master had remembered the importance of the day. "Obi-Wan, I forbid you from studying today." Qui-Gon rumbled, his low voice filling Obi-Wan with a sense of comfort and ease. "Instead, I think we will meditate together in one of the gardens, and perhaps take a walk. Is there anything in particular you want to do?"

He was about to burst with pleasure. "No, that sounds wonderful, master. And I've been planning dinner for the last week…Bant managed to catch me some wonderful fish when she went to Kashyyk on her last mission…"

The day was spent as planned. Obi-Wan reveled in meditating with his master in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, the place that, seven years ago, Obi-Wan had stumbled across Qui-Gon. The two quietly sank into the Force, who welcomed them with chimes of laughter. For the next hour, Obi-Wan tried to wrestle the Force into being more compliant, but the playful being merely laughed at his feeble attempts at dominance.

The haze of joy continued during their walk where Obi-Wan learned that even Coruscant could be beautiful. "It's very sunny today, master." Obi-Wan observed, feeling the warmth bounce on his skin and wishing, as he often did, that he could see the rays through the clouds, or the elusive object Qui-Gon described as a _rainbow_.

"Indeed it is, but don't let that fool you, it's getting very late." Obi-Wan nodded at this signal and turned to head back to the temple.

"Stop!" Qui-Gon's voice was sharp and commanding and Obi-Wan turned his direction, wondering what had caused this outburst. The Force hung, worried and fretting. Obi-Wan instinctively turned to it, trying to pry facts from the elusive being….

But before he had more than a second to grasp that there was someone running down the street, carrying an old woman's satchel, he was hit in the face with a recklessly thrown punch.

Perhaps the perpetrator had not known that Obi-Wan was a Jedi apprentice, or maybe he had seen that the boy was blind and would make an easy target, or wouldn't fight back. Possibly he was merely in a hurry and didn't care who he hit. Either way, Obi-Wan couldn't be blamed for reflexively stepping out and easily grabbing the man by the tail end of his cloak.

It was a reptile species, that much Obi-Wan knew by touching the man's arm. He rubbed his jaw ferociously as Qui-Gon reprimanded the man, gave the woman her purse, and handed the being over to the authorities. "That was a good move you had there Obi-Wan."

"Thank you, master." It was night now, and the sun had gone. Nonetheless, Obi-Wan was looking forward to preparing the dinner he had planned. "We should be heading back, now."

Still, he felt his master's gaze on him as they made their way through the streets, then down the quiet corridors of the temple. "It was a very good move, Little One. You are learning. How did you manage to hold the man?"

"I grabbed his cloak, master." Obi-Wan found a pan and prepared it with butter, then seasoned the fish. He was famished. "I didn't think it was particularly reckless…he didn't seem that dangerous."

"And he wasn't, but with your…shorter stature…you still managed to hold on." So the whole thing had been a long set up to slight his height. Well, Obi-Wan could only have expected it from Qui-Gon.

"You're smiling, aren't you, master?" Obi-Wan tried to be grumpy but couldn't manage it. He began to peel the carrots they would eat as a side and noticed that Qui-Gon left the room. "Master?"

Qui-Gon's problem for a gift had much to do with Obi-Wan's…uniqueness. A beautiful portrait, a rare novel, a collection of photos…all these involved sight. In fact, the one gift he knew Obi-Wan would cherish above all others was sight.

"I'm here, Padawan." Qui-Gon sat on the couch and patted a place beside him, which Obi-Wan willingly sat in. "Happy Birthday, Obi-Wan…it's not much, but I was hoping that it would help you _see_."

And with that the room was filled with Qui-Gon's voice over the speakers in the room. "Red." He said, and this was followed by an assortment of sounds…fire crackling darkly, the howl of a wolf at a harvest moon, the rustle of leaves falling… "Blue," preceded waves crashing on a shore, the cry of a sea bird, the low bellow of a fog horn…

"White" was the coo of a dove, the soft sigh of falling snow, a swish of downy feathers, a contrast to "green", which had sounds of all kinds of life, of the sounds of the rainforest and the war-cries of Wookies.

But Obi-Wan's favorite came at the end…it was the sound he was most familiar with, because it was the only color he knew. Following the word "black" was the silent hum of the never-ending universe and the steady pulse of the Force.

When the track was over, Obi-Wan found tears in his eyes. He'd stopped asking about colors years ago, resigned to the fact that he would never understand this language. Now…it was as if he'd been allowed a peek through a window, though the actual way in still remained locked.

"I'm sorry if I upset you, Little One…" but before the sentence was finished, Qui-Gon found Obi-Wan's arms flung around his neck, squeezing tight as a child, whispering words of thanks in every language the boy knew.

"Thank you, I will treasure this forever, master." Obi-Wan felt a hand come down on his shoulder and rub his back.

A low voice in his ear, "One last thing we need to discuss, Obi…

Why don't you ever call me Qui-Gon?"

**See, Qui-Gon does know how to be absolutely awesome. And Obi-Wan in growing up. **

**Five years left, the light at the end of the tunnel. Huh, we seem to have a thing for birthdays. **

**As always, please review. **


	21. Like a Father

_"It will be a hard life; one without reward, without remorse, without regret. A path will be placed before you. The choice is our alone. Do what you think you cannot do. It will be a hard life, but you will find out who you are." **Qui-Gon Jinn**_

Qui-Gon was trying to not over-react. Over-reacting being running to the nearest ship and launching himself in the direction of Obi-Wan. Trying not to react --- the method he had resorted to --- consisted of pacing down the center of the living room so as to wear a long tread in the carpet. He was also muttering to himself.

Of course, every Padawan had to, at one point, take on a solo mission. It was part of growing up, of becoming independent. The first solo missions were never too dangerous --- they were mostly of a political nature. Obi-Wan's own mission had to do with settling a dispute that was quickly turning violent on a small planet known as Xindi IV. It was a mission similar to many the two had undertaken together, and Qui-Gon had the utmost faith in his apprentice's abilities…

But. There was always that but. But what if the clans were closer to war than the Jedi had thought? What if they were more violent, more angry, more passionate about their separate causes? What if Obi-Wan got lost, or hurt, or sick?

What if his shuttle crashed? That problem was first and foremost in Qui-Gon's mind. Obi-Wan was not the best flier, and piloting was a skill he used as sparingly as possible, letting Qui-Gon or one of the others take the controls. Even with the Force guiding him, and the entity had not let the boy down yet, Qui-Gon did not totally trust Obi-Wan to safely go into hyper space, to come out of it again, to plot the co-ordinates…

He had felt a similar feeling with Xantos, but by the time his old apprentice had gotten his first solo mission, even Qui-Gonw as beginning to feel the stirrings of the dark side within his young protégé. Then, the emotions had been closer to fear, not for Xantos but for others, and hope that the boy wouldn't embarrass the Jedi Council.

Now, he had definite paternal stirrings in his chest; a longing to protect Obi-Wan from the horrors of the Universe. They'd been to many worlds, and seen much of the atrocities that sentient beings managed to inflict on one and other.

Qui-Gon remembered the first time he was sure his Padawan would die, as the young boy leapt into a fray of space pirates. He remembered seeing Obi-Wan, face down in shallow water after a fall broke his leg. Worst of all, he thought of the first time Obi-Wan was tortured in front of him, leaving him, Qui-Gon, powerless to help. Recalling the pain-twisted features of the child, it took all of Qui-Gon's willpower to stop himself from rushing out the door.

At one point, the old master must have sat down. Must have, because his memories began turning, twisting, mutating into things that had never happened. That could never have happened.

He and Obi-Wan were running on that Force-forsaken planet. Obi-Wan was carrying the baby, the alleged Chosen One. The boy had shouted at Qui-Gon to slow down and they both looked down to see the skin peel away from Obi-Wan's feet. But the wounds did not stop there….they continued up Obi-Wan's legs, exposing his calves, his stomach, his rib cage… "Master!"

And Qui-Gon took the boy from Obi-Wan's arms. He kept running, leaving his moaning, begging apprentice behind.

"Obi-Wan!" Qui-Gon sat bolt upright, sweat pouring down his face. Mopping his brow with the back of his hand, Qui-Gon moved from the couch and set a kettle down to boil. Tea might help. Tea and meditation never failed to soothe his agitated thoughts.

Yes, Qui-Gon had recently been preoccupied with the prophesies of the Chosen One, but that was only because the Council seemed completely unprepared for the turmoil the scriptures foretold. If Qui-Gon was reading the ancient writings correctly, the Chosen One would be needed to shepherd the Galaxy into a new ear.

A thousand years of peace were promised, but only once a great battle was fought on many planets, killing people in numbers unimaginable, unfathomable. And something deep within Qui-Gon, some long-forgotten, withered portion of the Force, told the man that it was he who must find this child.

Always male, always huminoid. The scriptures were clear on those facts. The Force would be strong with him, and his medichlorian count would be so high new charts would be needed in order to read just how in tune the boy would be with the Living Force. He would be a great leader, would overthrow a powerful, malignant despot. He would be a child of the Force, by the Force, but born of woman.

Somehow, he, Qui-Gon, and Obi-Wan were related to those scriptures. Somehow they would be a small part of the great plan to reintroduce harmony to the discordance of the Galaxy. Whenever Qui-Gon was feeling hopeless, or insignificant, he remembered that long-ago vision of the Force, of he, Qui-Gon, burning as if laid to rest on a funeral pyre and Obi-Wan, somewhat older, with his arm draped around a small, shadowed boy.

The Force tingled joyously, jerking Qui-Gon out of his meditations a second before a welcome, familiar presence engulfed his mind._ I missed you so much, Master_. Obi-Wan's voice was murmured and tired, mixed with emotions Qui-Gon rarely saw in the boy and reacted to at once.

_And I you Little One._ Qui-Gon thought back, already sifting through the emotions running through the bond between them. Frustration. Anger. Betrayal. _The mission is over so soon? Have you been injured?_

A sigh, and Qui-Gon remembered with a wry smile how very young his apprentice truly was. _No. Let me explain face to face, before the Council issues their politically correct statement to the Knights._

Not five minutes later, Obi-Wan was seated in front of Qui-Gon, nursing a cup of tea between his hands. For the first time in years Qui-Gon really looked at his apprentice. To him, Obi-Wan's hands told the whole story of his life. Long, pale, and delicately formed, they just as easily cooked a meal as held a light saber. They were calloused and rough but sensitive enough to know the difference between Qui-Gon's skin and Mace Windu's.

The twenty-year-old was short and would most likely not grow past his five foot four height. Light hair was shaven close to the head except for where it was twisted into a long, beautiful braid. Qui-Gon had just re-woven it, adding a more complex knot, in honor of Obi-Wan's first solo mission. The boy's blue-grey eyes were filmy, milky, and never focused on anything. They were usually closed in Qui-Gon's presence, as Obi-Wan rarely remembered to keep them open, especially if he was tired. His body was light, little more than a hundred and ten pounds, but wiry and strong nonetheless.

"The Council has assigned another member to the mission."

Qui-Gon had never heard bitterness in Obi-Wan's voice before. Not when the boy was young, and Qui-Gon's fear and self-pity manifested themselves into impossible commands. Not when his hearing, the sense he most prized, was taken from him in an instant. Not when he had been tortured, beaten, burned, because Qui-Gon was too blinded by a different prize to formulate a plan of action. But here was bitterness, and Qui-Gon was left explaining a galaxy Obi-Wan could never understand.

"Apparently the Prime Minister was…displeased…with my…handicap." The words were said quietly, in a tiny, strangled voice that was so unlike the bright, vibrant student Qui-Gon knew and cared for.

There had been other times when Obi-Wan's disabilities had upset some people on their missions, but Qui-Gon had always been there, and had turned tiger until Obi-Wan made a quick deduction or particularly deep comment to win over the people's affections.

But before this, there had been those who automatically assumed that just because Obi-Wan couldn't see, he couldn't hear their simpering tones, couldn't feel their distaste. There had been people who had talked to Obi-Wan as if he was a child, or, worse, not talked to him at all, but instead addressed only Qui-Gon. People automatically ruled him out of more physical missions when Obi-Wan was perhaps more capable then most of their trained militia.

"So I've been sent back until I'm reassigned." Obi-Wan raised his eyes to meet Qui-Gon's over their steaming mugs. _Please say something, master. Are you disappointed in me?_

_Never._

_Then why don't you respond?_ Obi-Wan was pleading now, sounding suddenly very young. Strange that there were times when Qui-Gon could swear the boy had seen a hundred years, times when even the Master had to admit that the apprentice had outmaneuvered him. But there were times, like now, when Obi-Wan still sought his blessing, his acceptance. Qui-Gon didn't know what he would do if that ever changed.

_I don't trust myself to talk of those people in the civil manner that so becomes a Knight. Right now, I want to throttle those people for hurting you. _

_I'm not injured._ But the voice was unsure and so tired, so confused. Obi-Wan could not comprehend prejudice, because he himself was so slow to judge, so quick to forgive. Perhaps Obi-Wan's blindness helped, for he could not, as the saying goes, 'judge a book by its cover'. But it was also Obi-Wan's nature to think the best of every being he encountered.

_Not in the body, but your mind has just taken a terrible blow, Little One._ And Qui-Gon impressed upon his student his own observations of the boy's character compared to his long history with the rest of the galaxy. _You have just encountered bigotry, prejudice. There are planets, you know, where you would have been killed at birth._

The twenty-year-old pressed closer to Qui-Gon and shivered slightly, as though he were cold. _I know that, Master, and I am grateful that the Jedi took me in. Sometimes, though… There was a moment's indecision, hesitation. Sometimes, I wish I could see. And sometimes I curse the Force because I can't. _

The older man contemplated this for so long that Obi-Wan began to fidget slightly, for he was aware that such thoughts were against the Jedi Code. _Sometimes, Padawan._ Qui-Gon sent back later, the words laced with warmth, compassion, friendship._ I do that, too._

**Poor Obi-Wan. His whole perception of the universe has just been turned on its head. **

**We suddenly can't wait to write Anakin. I hate that kid. **

**Anyways, review.**


	22. Found

"_Who's the more fool; the fool or the fool who follows him?" __**Obi-Wan**_

It didn't take long for the twenty-two-year-old Obi-Wan Kenobi to realize they were in trouble.

If you know what to look for (hear for, same thing) then it was easy to tell when a confrontation was about to take place. Everything got quiet. People stopped moving and you could feel stares, hundreds of them, usually looking at Obi-Wan. At Qui-Gon.

As a contrast to this tension, Qui-Gon was always the epitome of calm, his body relaxed, resigned, one elbow touching Obi-Wan's sleeve. When the elbow pressed into his arm, Obi-Wan knew it was time to act.

"Your assistance is no longer required, Jedi. The situation is under control." That was Colonel Kimly, a leader of the sadistic tendencies. All of the Jedi's findings pointed to him as the likeliest suspect for killing the late General Kuwait. Kimly was attempting to take control of the government and mold it into his vision --- one that didn't include a subservient minority race on the troubled planet.

The Council had sent Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon to try to sort out this trouble before it escalated into the violence that was sure to follow. It was when they were assigned to this mission that Obi-Wan realized, with pleasure, though noting the irony, that he was one of the most seasoned diplomats in the Order.

Qui-Gon's voice was outwardly serene, though Obi-Wan, who had known the man for nine years, could hear the bitterness and frustration in his tone. Qui-Gon, like Obi-Wan, knew that they were fighting a losing battle.

Though Kimly was not fit to lead, the minorities, known as the Troobles, made no effort to stop him as Kimly's troops raided their homes, destroyed their crops. The battle had not escalated to the sacrifice of human lives, but that was not far off.

There was a sound that permeated the silence, a faint, metallic sound of the safety of a gun being taken off. Though Obi-Wan's hearing wasn't what it used to be before The Silence, he still heard at least ten times better than Qui-Gon.

Acting on pure instinct that would later be praised as heroism, Obi-Wan shoved his master hard in the side, causing the large man to stumble to the side four feet. It was not far, and did not throw Qui-Gon off his feet, but it was enough.

The bullet tore through Obi-Wan's tunic and pierced his side. Immediately, as he had been taught, he turned his pain over to the Force, laying his cross on the willing friend even as Obi-Wan gave a soft moan of pain.

Qui-Gon stumbled with Obi-Wan's blow, drawing his lightsaber at the same time. He brought it down to shield his apprentice a second after the boy's side was torn. While Obi-Wan handed his pain over to the Force, Qui-Gon consciously gave up his anger, already flowing though him at an astonishing rate.

_Fly! _

Qui-Gon had always known that this mission would end in injury. At the very begging, when he sat at the controls, Obi-Wan next to him, his Padawan had uttered his doubts. "I have a bad feeling about this."

"You always do." Qui-Gon had cajoled gently. "Shrug it off, my very young apprentice."

The familiar nudge in his head, and Qui-Gon had let Obi-Wan in his thoughts. _I'm not young, Qui-Gon. _

_You're thirteen._

_Twenty-two. _

_Only in your dreams, Little One. _The "bad feeling" was forgotten.

As always, Qui-Gon found himself wishing that he had listened to Obi-Wan. The other Jedi often spoke of missions that ended in something other than anarchy, chaos, and bloodshed. Was it the missions, or Qui-Gon himself, that brought about these terrible endings?

Obi-Wan, despite the wound which poured blood on the polished marble floor, was fighting valiantly against two large men. Brown, furry, and fitted with antlers, this particular species based their culture on warring and honor.

Qui-Gon was happy to see that it wasn't two against two hundred. Many of the Senate members, too unsure or frightened to speak against Kimly's policies, joined into the fray on the Jedi's side, turning the tide slowly but surely in their favor.

With a single fluid motion, Qui-Gon lopped off the sword-arm of one warrior, passed the 'saber to his left hand, and cleaved the head, antlers and all, of another in two.

Obi-Wan, as was his nature, had found high ground from which to fight. He stood on a chair, exposed to gun fire which he deflected easily, and let the soldiers come to him. Already a pile of the maimed and dead lay at his feet.

The Force pulsated in the room, and Qui-Gon sensed both light and dark battling in there. He was careful when he called for the Force's help, as the Dark Side occasionally responded. Ever since Xantos had turned, the Dark Side had become more and more interested in persuading Qui-Gon to join its side.

Slowly but surely the dead outnumbered the living. Qui-Gon had sustained few injuries and was part of the troop that rounded up the remaining soldiers and heard their surrender.

Kimly was dead, killed by one of the few Trooble radicals. The man stood over the despot's body, small chest heaving with triumph as he looked at the body of the dead dictator.

Qui-Gon hurried over to Obi-Wan, his cloak fanning behind him as he knelt next to his Padawan. Obi-Wan lay deathly still at the top of a pile of at least twenty dead soldiers. Though it was not in the boy's nature to fight, to harm any other being, he was strangely, terrifyingly good at the craft of warfare.

Easily scooping up Obi-Wan's body, Qui-Gon turned to a familiar, hovering Senator. Dawlish was a good man, if too passive for his own good. He, too, had joined in the fight, and sustained a blow to the head for his pains. "Is there an infirmary I can go to for my apprentice?"

Though the injuries Obi-Wan had sustained through the years were numerous, it never got any better. Each time Qui-Gon found the boy battered, broken, and bleeding he felt his heart rip in two and entertained entirely un-Jedi thoughts of hate and revenge.

Dawlish lead the way to an overflowing infirmary on unsteady feet, ending up on all fours by the end of the walk. All the Troobles were obviously descendants of four-footed creatures.

Qui-Gon swept through the inadequate hospital, picking up bandages, a tourniquet, a needle and thread. After a few inquiries, he found that the medical staff had never encountered a huminoid before, so Qui-Gon was on his own for operation.

Though the Force had sealed itself over the room, Qui-Gon still had the sense that Obi-Wan's life force was pouring out between his clenched fingers. _Stay with me, Padawan!_

Obi-Wan's life force was flickering and Qui-Gon found himself pleading with the Force for another minute, another hour with this child. _Don't take him from me. _He begged the entity, his blood-slicked fingers probing the gaping wound. Organs had been pierced, a rib broken. How had Obi-Wan fought.

_Let me keep him. Let me keep my son. _Screams of the dying, the smell of the dead, were all around him. The planet had fallen into chaos, his mission had gone awry, and Obi-Wan would not awake. He had hit rock bottom.

_This is not the way things were meant to be_. He reasoned, already stitching the wound closed. It would scar…his stitches were too large, too far apart. One more scar for the already heavily-scarred boy. _This is not the way it's supposed to be._

If the Force was anything, it was fair, karma, and it had a plan. There was still that long-ago vision of Obi-Wan, older, and a young boy. Qui-Gon held fast to that vision, holding it as a promise, as he gripped Obi-Wan's skin, willing it to mend beneath his hands.

On the other hand, there was Obi-Wan's omen…_I have a bad feeling about this_. The boy had said. And Qui-Gon had laughed it off. Obi-Wan lived the Force, had developed a relationship with the entity that surpassed any the Order had ever heard of. Qui-Gon knew that he should begin to listen to the boy.

There was a stirring beneath his fingers. Obi-Wan's heart fluttered, puttered, gave out. _No! _The anguish in his thought was such that the beings all over the room turned to stare. This couldn't be happening. Obi-Wan was pure, good, innocent, and not meant to die. He was tiny and strong and brave and _good_. He was not meant to die.

Not meant to die.

In a gesture of utter defeat, Qui-Gon laid his head on Obi-Wan's still chest, tears leaking from his eyes. Obi-Wan had died a hero. He had sacrificed himself to save someone he loved. It was an honorable death. That should be enough.

It wasn't. Qui-Gon felt hollow, empty, dead. He wanted to head Obi-Wan's voice, watch his blank eyes light up with joy at the simple sound of the ocean, see his pale hand ghost over a leaf and know that the boy found the piece of nature precious. With Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon had always known was he was fighting for.

A gentle hand barely touched Qui-Gon's back. The touch was weak, the fingers long, brittle. _Master…why are you crying?_

Knowing that this was a gift from the Force, that the miracle truly meant that they were to do great things, Qui-Gon hugged his apprentice tightly and kissed him on the forehead.

Qui-Gon explained, his voice cracking, low, too full of emotion to stay whole. "A father cries when he believes he has lost his only son."

**Twenty-Two. Have we finally caught up in chapter numbers? Can't wait for Ani, but these little moments are what we **_**live**_** for. **

**Please review. **


	23. Love

"_What good is a reward if you ain't around to use it? Plus, attacking a battle station isn't my idea of courage. It's more like suicide." __**Han Solo**_

It wasn't often that Qui-Gon was the one who was hurt, and Obi-Wan was thankful for that. The older man made a terrible patient.

"Leave me alone to die, Padawan." The Knight grumbled as Obi-Wan carefully re-dressed one of the nastier wounds on Qui-Gon's leg.

"You're not going to die, master. If you were, I'd bring you to the infirmary. But you were already kicked out of there, remember? For terrorizing the healers and making that apprentice cry." Obi-Wan's voice was calm, level. He was secretly amused with his master for behaving so childishly, and this is what aided his undying patience.

Shifting slightly, enough for the bond between the two to wince and waver with pain, Qui-Gon mumbled, "Well, I am sorry for making her cry. But they're so molly-coddling down there!" The exasperated man flicked Obi-Wan's hands away from his face once, then twice.

"Master, I need to bandage your wound."

"You need to get out of my sight. I'm sick of looking at you. Leave me alone." Qui-Gon shifted again, and another flicker of pain permeated their bond.

"Luckily, master, I can never express the same sentiment. You'll get infected, let me clean your…master, hold still." Obi-Wan was smiling. For the past week, Qui-Gon had been telling him to get out, and other more unkind things.

"Bacta bandages don't get infected, my very young apprentice. This is a new age. No one dies from infections anymore." It was obvious that Qui-Gon was in pain, and uncomfortable, but still well enough to terrorize his favorite Padawan.

"You know that isn't true, master. People always die from infections. I don't want you to follow their path."

"Well, I can clean my own bandages."

"You can't even lift your arm!"

"Not true…see?" His arm was a fraction of an inch off the couch, and pain was pouring across the bond.

_Master, you're making _me_ hurt, put your arm back down, you stubborn old man._

"I'm not old."

"If you aren't old, how come you couldn't beat that guy in the duel, hmm? Admit it, master, you brought this upon yourself."

"Obi-Wan, that…thing…was three feet taller than me, and at least three times as heavy."

"He didn't have a lightsaber."

Qui-Gon sighed. "No, he didn't have a lightsaber, just a big sword. And a club. And friends." If Obi-Wan hadn't been otherwise engaged, which really meant he was knocked out cold on the floor, he would have helped Qui-Gon in his fight. And he did have sympathy for the man, who had done a great job against three opponents.

If only he would stop griping.

"I would have helped you, master, if you had waited for just _one second_."

"You were sleeping."

"Knocked out."

"Same thing."

Again, Obi-Wan tried to dab at the cut, now unbandaged. As his fingers grazed the area, he found that it was leaking blood, and lots of it. But, once again, his hand was swatted away before he could bandage the cut. "Master, if you don't stop, I'll have to get Master Windu in here."

Qui-Gon snorted. "Ohh, I'm scared."

"You should be." Obi-Wan groused. "He's scary."

"No, he isn't."

"He's tall, and when he puts his hand on my shoulder he feels really strong, like he could break me in half if he wanted to. Plus, the Force tingles when its around him, like its ready to do whatever he says."

"The Force isn't like that around everyone?" Qui-Gon was still grumpy, and sore, but he was always interested in his apprentice's unique view of the Force.

"No. Around you, it's calm, like if you could walk through it, it would be a gentle stream. Around Master Windu, it would be a waterfall." Obi-Wan thought for a moment. "Master Yoda is more like a swamp. There's a lot of Force for such a little area."

Qui-Gon barked out a laugh. "His home planet, Degoba, is a swamp."

Obi-Wan thought about that for a second. "You know, master, I don't think we've ever been to a swamp."

"Thank the maker, I hate them. Too many bugs, and its always hot and sticky."

"I don't like bugs. They buzz too much and the Force hates them too. Did you know that bugs are not Force-sensitive at all?"

"No, I didn't. Thanks for telling me." Obi-Wan's hand once again snaked towards his master's face and managed to lay a cool washcloth against his forehead before being swatted away.

"Stop that, master, it hurts." It didn't, not really, but when Obi-Wan pouted he looked no older than twelve. When he was acting grown-up, like the twenty-three-year-old he was supposed to be, he looked all of sixteen. He was just too short.

"So, what's the Force like around other people?"

Obi-Wan thought about this. "It's soft and quiet in the snow, because it's almost frozen. I don't like forests much, because the Force is so thick it feels like I'm walking through water, or even solids sometimes. In water it's calm, happy. Like a porpoise." Obi-Wan smiled a little, even as Qui-Gon groaned in pain.

"Master, do you need to go back to the infirmary?"

"No!"

"Then let me treat your wounds. Without causing me bodily harm, please. Don't you love me, father?"

"More than anything, kiddo, I just hate it when people touch me, and help me."

"I know. Lift your arm. Did you know you have forty-seven bruises on your body and twenty-nine cuts?"

"No, thanks for counting."

"I have nothing else to do. You find that you get good at mental math when you're blind. I think everyone should be blind for a year."

"Because it's such a fulfilling experience?"

"Because you have to trust people more. Like, I have to trust that you didn't spray-paint my clothes pink. Again. That wasn't funny, master."

"Bant thought it was."

"Well, the Prime Minister of Naboo didn't."

"Anyway, I have to trust that the door to the elevator will open. That the furniture in the apartment isn't rearranged. Again. That was, you, too, master. You keep trying to kill me."

"Again, sorry. Continue."

Obi-Wan cleaned a particularly nasty cut on Qui-Gon's knee. "I can't make assumptions about people by their looks. Did I ever tell you that Bruck once called me racist?"

"No." Qui-Gon chuckled. "When was this?"

"Oh, we were maybe seven. I think he just learned the word. I like to laugh about it, though."

"The pleasures of being blind."

"Yeah." Obi-Wan got quiet for a second, his hand resting on a bruise on Qui-Gon's chest. He had broken a bone that had punctured his lung. His heart had stopped. "Did I tell you that you scared me?"

"When?"

"When you got hurt. I woke up and you weren't breathing. Your heart had stopped. The Force was beginning to leave you."

"Oh. What did you do?"

"I willed it back into you. And I cried." Obi-Wan was silent. "You scared me. A lot."

"I'm sorry." This apology was heartfelt. "Though, you should know, you've scared me a good few times."

"I try." Obi-Wan put down the cloth and wrapped his arms around Qui-Gon's chest, feeling his heart beat, loud and clear, beneath his ear. He squeezed hard, hoping that he'd never have to let go.

**They're splitting up soon, I think they need some love between them. **

**As always, please review. **


	24. Episode I

_While the Congress of the Republic endlessly debates this alarming chain of events, the Supreme Chancellor has secretly dispatched two Jedi Knights, the guardians of peace and justice in the galaxy, to settle the conflict. **Phantom Menace Main Title**_

"Are you sure you want to come on this mission, Little One?" Qui-Gon Jinn glanced back at his protégé, barely twenty-five, and sneezing.

Obi-Wan glanced up, his cheeks blazing and red. He's been running a fever that neither bacta nor the Healers could bring down, but he'd insisted on accompanying his friend on the diplomatic mission. "I'm fine, master. The Trade Federation will not wait for a simple cold."

If it was anything other than simple diplomacy; and the Trade Federation was a _simple_ empire, ruthless in their own way but with no malicious intents that the Jedi could pick up on, then Qui-Gon would have insisted going alone, or waiting for Obi-Wan to recover. But this could not wait, and there was no danger.

"The ambassadors should be joining us any minute. Do you sense anything?" He had by now acknowledged and accepted the younger man's greater grasp of the Force.

The blind man was quiet for a second, feeling the Force dancing, elusive. When he tried to rope it in and give him a picture of what was ahead, in the next room, it flitted and rang dangerously, a warning. "There is a disturbance in the Force." He said quietly, "It's not about the mission, master, it is…elsewhere." He coughed quietly and could feel Qui-Gon's mind envelope his, disapproving and familiar.

_You are more ill than you let on, Padawan. Don't center your anxiety; keep your mind on the here and now where it belongs. These Federation types are cowards; the negations will be short. Rope in your consciousness and try not to hurt yourself. We'll be back on Coruscant before you know it._

_Yes master._

Though his grasp of the Force was tenuous at best he cast his consciousness around. Something was off here. "Is it in their nature to keep guests waiting this long?" He really, really wanted to get back to the temple. His head was pounding, and the Force was aggravating, telling him something that he couldn't interpret.

"No." Qui-Gon sounded worried and Obi-Wan opened his eyes, which did nothing to abate the headache pounding behind his forehead. He would have to keep them open during the negotiations anyway. "I sense an inordinate amount of fear over something as trivial as a trade dispute."

_Be on your guard, Padawan. _No sooner had the warning pierced his barriers then TC-14, the protocol droid, entered the room. Both Jedi were on their feet in a second, lightsabers at the ready.

Obi-Wan sneezed again, exhausted, numbly hearing his master shout, "Gas!" It was instinctive to suck in a breath and wait, putting away his lightsaber. _Force!_ He cried, but the Force was scattered and dark. A black envelope was wrapping around Obi-Wan and he shrugged it off, searching for the bright beacon of his master.

_The Force is dark here, master! _Obi-Wan's cry was surprised, and Qui-Gon grasped his elbow, pulling him from the room. _I thought these people were a part of the Senate_. Qui-Gon placed his fingers on a pad and Obi-Wan instinctively jabbed at buttons, looking for the correct combination to unlock them. The Force, scared, skittering, guided his fingers and, just as he was at the last of his air, his head pounding worse than ever, the doors sprung open and he and Qui-Gon bustled through them.

_This way! _Qui-Gon was heading for the ship and Obi-Wan caught up to him, overtook him. He was tiny and fast and, even ill, he was faster. The Force egged him on, pointing to a door up ahead that was shutting.

With a sudden burst of speed Obi-Wan flung his lightsaber at the closing door, using the Force to guide his aim before he stumbled, landing on his knees, casting the Force about to see if his lightsaber had stuck.

_Good job, young one!_ Qui-Gon pulled Obi-Wan to his feet and the two took off, turning sideways through the door, Obi-Wan snagging his lightsaber on the way. Another hallway, right before they got back to the ship, and Obi-Wan thought they were home free.

A shot caught him in the leg and he was thrown forward, rolling automatically with the blow and standing in one fluid motion, though his leg gave out after only a moment. From his position, Obi-Wan could see his master call to the ship's captain to get the vehicle closer.

_Master, I can keep them out of the corridor if you retrieve the ship_. Already Obi-Wan was turning, facing the droids that he could hear rolling down the hallway. They were large, bigger than any droids, and a mechanical pulsing in the air alerted him to the presence of a shied generator.

"Destroyer droids!" He said outloud, so surprised by this observation that he couldn't keep the revelation in. _Master, I believe this has gone past the negotiation stage._

_Do you really think so?_ Qui-Gon was harried and tense and Obi-Wan got a fleeting vision of their captain, dead in his chair, before the destroyer droid fired, forcing him to jerk back to the battle.

The Force guided his lightsaber, and his one ear, super sensitive to any sound, kept 'lookout' for anyone from behind. But it seemed as if the Trade Federation embassies had assumed that the Jedi would be taken out by the gas and, if not that, then the droids, and no sentient beings showed up to tear them down.

Still, three destroyer droids was a lot, especially since Obi-Wan's balance was off-kilter because of his hurt leg. Using a pause in battle to his advantage, the apprentice raised his left hand and used the Force to slam a robot into the wall. His usual Force-vision temporarily down due to this move, a shot slipped through his defenses and rammed him in the shoulder.

He grunted but didn't cry out, still acutely aware that they could be attacked at any point by men more skilled at hand-to-hand combat, a method of fighting that Obi-Wan was ill equipped for. _Master, where are you? _He killed another droid with a well-deflected bullet and was down to one large, crouching mass.

_Duck! _And Obi-Wan had learned from long experience that this command was not to be taken lightly. He flattened himself on the ground, smelling his own burnt flesh and the metallic stench of blood as a shot from the ship, still at the opposite end of the corridor, took out the final droid.

_Hurry! _But Obi-Wan could not hurry. Limping forward, he built up speed until he jumped onto the ship's platform, already ascending into the body of the ship.

"What took you so long?" Obi-Wan cried out audibly as Qui-Gon launched the ship into hyperspace. He still had one hand grasping his shoulder, and the blood leaked through at an incredible pace. The blood loss and illness combined to make spots swim in front of his eyes.

"There were several guards, Obi-Wan. They were rather adverse to my plan of taking back our ship." Autopilot was put on as the ship traveled many times past the speed of light, and suddenly a presence was kneeling next to Obi-Wan, one hand over his leg.

The Force was lighter now, and anxious, wrapping itself around Obi-Wan's wounds in a way that did not quite staunch the terrible flow of blood. "Why do you always get hurt, Little One?"

"I'm trying to keep you on your toes, master. You're supposed to be busy with a Padawan." He cringed slightly as Qui-Gon pressed hard on his leg, making a bacta bandage stretch tight around it. As his master took over the care of his arm, Obi-Wan withdrew his hand, slick with blood.

He had been looking forward to a week of rest at the temple, but with this development he knew that would be impossible. With a sigh Obi-Wan leaned back, grateful for the cool metal of the deck beneath his fevered body. "They're loading battle droids onto ships." This he had gained during his frantic sprint to eh ship. "It's an invisible army."

He could sense Qui-Gon's nod near his shoulder. "It's an odd ploy for the Trade Federation." And Obi-Wan remembered what his master had said about the people being cowards. Cowardly enough to send droids to kill Jedi, which also made them stupid. "We've got to warn Naboo and contact Chancellor Valorum."

Obi-Wan nodded, flexing his arm and putting pressure on his leg. Though both still throbbed with pain, he was certain that they wouldn't greatly hinder him in battle. He tipped his head up to where he thought his master's was, though in reality he was four inches off, "You were right about one thing, master." He said, a smile in his voice,

"the negotiations were short."

**So since this is AU I thought I'd change some things….like the fight on the star ship. And next chapter will be about Anakin, not JarJar…should JarJar even be in this?**

**Anyway, please review and tell us what you think.**


	25. Episode I Part II

_"The reading's off the count. Over twenty thousand…even master Yoda doesn't have a medichlorian count this high." **Obi-Wan**_

"Land near the outskirts. We don't want to attract attention."

Obi-Wan stood next to Qui-Gon, letting the Force flow through him. Emotions were pummeling his still-weak body: starvation, hopelessness, greed, lust…he searched for positive signs, and a few beacons of light stood out, but for the most part, the desert planet was covered with a mask of grey consciousness.

Already Qui-Gon was choosing the landing party. JarJar, who would make things less obvious. He made the humanoids accompanying him look like slave traders or thugs. Obi-Wan, for his instinctive use of the Force, even if he was still suffering from the strange illness. R2-D2, the droid that had saved the ship, was taken to speak to whatever hyperdrive they managed to pick up.

The planet was hot, dry, and the wind whipped sand into Obi-Wan's already parched throat. His eyes, which had been shut most of the trip out of sheer exhaustion, remained that way. He didn't envy his master of his sight now, since the older man would need his eyes to walk across the treacherous terrain. The Force, anxious about Obi-Wan's illness, was guiding him more carefully than ever.

"Master, someone is following us." He stopped and turned around, tilting his head as he paused. Next to him Qui-Gon put his hand on his lightsaber. "That is unnecessary, sir. It is only the captain."

Captain Pinako caught up to them, another, flighty Force signature trailing in his wake. Obi-Wan worked to keep his face neutral, though he didn't know if he accurately pulled off the appearance.

He had learned to dislike and distrust the handmaiden following the captain. She would occasionally switch places with Queen Amadala. You could paint over your face but you couldn't mask your Force signature.

"Her Highness commands you to take her handmaiden with you. She wishes to observe the local…"

Obi-Wan was glad when Qui-Gon waved this request away with one large, hand, "No more commands from her Highness today, Captain. This space port is not going to be pleasant."

Yet not two minutes later they were saddled with this girl, who did not walk quickly or quietly enough. She was small, almost as tiny as Obi-Wan. "My name is Padme." She greeted. Her voice had a lilt to it. She was young, very young.

"I am Obi-Wan." He replied, keeping a dutiful few feet between him and his master but, out of long practice, easily keeping stride. Padme was falling behind.

"Have you always been blind?" Obi-Wan confirmed his dislike of the girl, though tried to explain it away. She was only in her teens.

"Have you always been this impertinent?" He asked, sensing a city up ahead. He threw the Force out, got a reading, knew they were still a fifteen minute walk away. Unwilling to enter into a conversation about his handicap, he fell back further, started walking with JarJar and the droid.

Within seconds Padme had done the same. "Doesn't it interfere with your ability to be a Jedi?"

It wasn't as if Obi-Wan didn't usually get questions like these. He was used to the probing, personal queries of small-minded strangers. "I don't mean to be rude."

"Of course you don't." This was the excuse of the nosy, who knew they were being rude and insisted on doing it anyway. "No, it doesn't interfere with me being a Jedi. I can still fight and fly ships and negotiate treaties. I am good at diplomacy." He paused, letting this sink in. "The Force guides me in all of my actions. It never lets me waver."

"You believe in the Force?"

"I know it exists. That question is like me asking you if you believed in the sky, or in space. It is merely there, not for me to question."

The girl was quiet after that, and Obi-Wan took the moment to once again check the area, throwing his consciousness out in front of him. JarJar had a particularly vibrant Force-signature, though while in Gungan city he'd found it hard to navigate; all of those bodies, their pulsing life-forces so close together, had made him disoriented. Other species did that as well, usually Wookies.

Padme's Force was flighty, dancing, strong and hopeful. She might have been Force-sensitive at one point, though lack of training had not developed the gift. Qui-Gon, as always, was bright, tall, calming. Even little R2 had a signature, almost as if he were alive.

The city was filled with vagabonds, ruffians. Padme pressed close to him, obviously forgetting that he was a mere blind boy. JarJar did indeed deter people that would otherwise stare, though some still did. "Pull up your hood, lady." Qui-Gon ordered, leading them down one alley, then another. Qui-Gon ducked into the small side shop first, Obi-Wan scurrying to hurry in after.

"Peedinkle! Naba dee unko!" The boy who ran in nearly floored Obi-Wan. _Master,_ he spoke, breaching the Knight's defenses. _Look_. He gave the impression he had of that boy, nearly glowing with the medichlorians running through his bloodstream.

_That's interesting. _Qui-Gon sent back, still deep in conversation with the Toydarian, though his eyes flicked to the boy. _He's too old to fulfill the prophesy. _

_You're always about the prophesy. _Obi-Wan sent back, teasing. _He should be trained. He's powerful already. If we leave him here, as a slave, he might turn._

_One thing at a time, my very young apprentice. _Qui-Gon followed the flapping creature out back to the junk yard and the boy flipped up to the counter, polishing a piece of metal half-heartedly.

"You're a Jedi Knight aren't you?" The small voice was abrupt and Obi-Wan wondered where the boy had learned Basic if he had been living in the slums of Tatooine all his life.

"Why do you ask?" Obi-Wan wondered. He had thought they'd washed away all traces of their identities away. If certain people knew they were Jedi they would not hesitate to use violence, and that was the last thing these poor peasants needed.

The boy pointed to his belt, "Your laser sword. Only Jedi carry that kind of weapon."

Obi-Wan grinned in what he hoped was his direction. The Force was so powerful around him it through off his sense of direction. Like a thousand Gungans put together. "Perhaps I killed a Jedi and stole it from him." He suggested.

"That's impossible. No one can kill a Jedi."

"If only that were true." Obi-Wan murmured, thinking of all his Jedi friends who'd died. Almost a quarter of his graduating class --- they had only numbered twenty-five --- had already been killed in battle. The Galaxy was becoming a more dangerous place for Jedi. The child yelled across the room at JarJar, who was playing with a small robot, "Hey! Hit the nose!"

"Is that other man a Jedi, too?"

"He's my master." Obi-Wan acknowledged, seeing no reason to keep this from the child. He knew that Qui-Gon would attempt to buy the boy's freedom as he had for several other 'Chosen Ones' they had come across.

The boy looked at him, cocking his head. "Are you a slave?"

"No. I am his apprentice. I call him 'master' as a term of respect." Obi-Wan answered easily.

"And you're blind? Doesn't that make you a bad Jedi?"

Obi-Wan sighed, calling on the famous Jedi patience that he supposedly possessed. "Yes, I'm blind. No, it doesn't impede my abilities as a Jedi." He was having de ja vu. Then, only because he was seething --- who was this kid, a child, to question his capacity? "What's your name?" He asked.

"Anakin Skywalker." The boy replied, sealing their fate.

**Always thought Anakin would be confused about the master/Padawan relationship, since he was used to the master/slave one. **

**2 Chapters to go! Please review!**


	26. Episode I Part III: The End

"_Qui-Gon believed in him. I believe in Qui-Gon." __**Obi-Wan**_

Obi-Wan wrapped his fingers around the thin arm of his new charge. Anakin was nearly his size, would probably surpass him in the years to come, when Obi-Wan was his master.

For the thousandth time that day, he had to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. He would be a master, not Qui-Gon. How was that possible?

Flames threw up Qui-Gon's body, and Obi-Wan could feel his master enter the Force, another soft, familiar presence to help. Qui-Gon always said that Jedi don't truly go into the Force, the last oblivion, until their bodies are burned, which is why it was the worst disgrace to leave a Jedi for dead.

He remembered when one of his schoolmates had died of a lingering disease he'd picked up on a mission with his master. His body had been burned within an hour. "Why do they rush such things?" Obi-Wan had asked, stunned.

His master had wrapped his arms around his torso (but his arms would never again do that, would they, because it was now his body being burned, his body…) and had explained that, since the boy had died so slowly and in so much pain, they didn't want to prolong his suffering any longer.

Obi-Wan had leaned against the big man and told him, quietly, that if he was ever in that much pain, and death was imminent, Qui-Gon should just kill him.

And Qui-Gon had gotten quiet, had slipped past Obi-Wan's shields. _Don't ask me to do that, Little One. I could never kill you. _There was a pause, slow, long, _And you cannot ask me to live without you._

_Now, Qui-Gon, I am forced to live without you_.

He remembered yesterday morning, feeling the thrill of the chase, knowing that they were going after a Sith, the biggest enemy of the Jedi, of balance to the Force. He had been so excited by the prospect of killing the thing, he hadn't even thought of the possibility that he or Qui-Gon might be…

Because how could they die? Really, after all they'd been through, all the different worlds they'd gone to help, to aid, to fight for, how could either of them die? Especially Qui-Gon, large, reassuring, with his calming, familiar presence, who had taken Obi-Wan in, who had given a blind boy a father. He couldn't die, not so atrociously, so uselessly.

But he had died, leaving Obi-Wan to finish off the Sith. He had faced the other being, whose entire body and soul was fueled by a black, cold fire. And there was Obi-Wan, backed by the entire pure Force, by his anguish at the loss of his master, his mentor, his father. He had to kill the Sith, and knew that.

Qui-Gon would be proud. Yoda and Mace Windu and the entire Jedi council couldn't have helped but to be proud, because in that battle, though he was furious, guilty, in pain, he had never called on the Dark Side, not once.

And after the Sith toppled over the edge, Obi-Wan powered down the lightsaber (Qui-Gon's lightsaber, which he had taken in order to finish the job) and ran, sprinted over to the man, bleeding out on the floor.

"Master!" he slid into place, cradling the man in his arms. He wasn't crying, not yet. Perhaps it hadn't yet hit him. "Master!"

"It's too late," but how was that possible? Just that morning, they had been plotting, scheming, trying to throw off the grip of the Trade Federation. Just that morning, he had woken up and, as always, made a cup of tea for his father, and, like always, had burned his hand making sure that Qui-Gon, as always, laughed, wrapped his hand in what he now referred to as "Obi-Wan's morning bandage" and told him that, at this rate, he would withdraw his recommendation for Obi-Wan to take the trials.

And then Anakin had walked in, pestering Qui-Gon with questions, and the big man was gone from Obi-Wan's side, but it had been just that morning….

"No!" He pushed his way into Qui-Gon's mind, not flinching at the pain that clouded the man's mind. _Master, do not do this. I cannot continue without you._

_You can….oh, my son, you can…._

"Obi-Wan, promise," _Do this for me…Padawan, you must. _"Promise….you will train the boy."

Anakin, the child who glowed with the Force, who just that morning had looked up at him and asked how he could help such a great Jedi like Qui-Gon if he was blind, who they had left in a ship, under fire.

As he had for years, because he couldn't refuse Qui-Gon, never had, never could. "Yes, master."

"He will bring balance," and this almost made Obi-Wan laugh, quirked a smile to his face, because Qui-Gon had been saying the same thing for years, picking out different boys, some weeks old, some years, and telling Obi-Wan that this boy will bring balance to the Force…no, this one will. "He is the Chosen One. Train him!"

_Of course, master….I'll train him with you. _He had to keep saying this, that Qui-Gon would live, otherwise he'd have to admit that he would go on in the world alone, a true orphan, without a father.

_It is too late for me, Little One_. Qui-Gon grasped Obi-Wan's hand, able, as always, to cover up the tiny one with his massive paw. Qui-Gon's fist was slick with sweat and blood, but things had been bad before, and they'd always gotten out, right?

_No…._He stayed, watching, waiting in Qui-Gon's mind, unwilling, unable to do what he must.

_You must…sever…the bond. _Qui-Gon was panting, barely holding on, but Obi-Wan couldn't do this most important thing. If the bond wasn't severed before Qui-Gon's death, Obi-Wan's consciousness could get lost in the Force, unable to find his body again.

_I love you, father. _And here Obi-Wan started pulling back, tears leaking down his cheeks, his heart heavy, his soul scarred. He would never be the same again.

_And I…I you…my son. _Obi-Wan watched as the Force spark left Qui-Gon's eyes, as his face slackened. With a sickening, distant mind, he was able to think that his master looked, improbably, at peace.

As he lowered his master's eyelids, he heard the wail of the Force, of a nation at war, as his own scream filled the chamber, a wail, arching, primal, that didn't stop until Master Yoda himself came to told him that Naboo was still free.

It was days later, not an hour, like with his schoolmate, that Qui-Gon was burned. Obi-Wan kept vigil, accompanied, improbably, by Anakin. "You don't need to stay here," he'd told the child as kindly as he was able.

Anakin pressed his solid, damp weight of his body against Obi-Wan, a reminder, an anchor, "He saved me, too."

When Obi-Wan stood, listening to his master's body burn, when he pledged to the child next to him that he would train and guide him, he could only think of those words. "He saved me, too."

_He saved us all_.

And, with that last thought, just as he was about to let one betraying tear fall, he could have sworn he felt a nudge in his mind, achingly familiar, and his master's voice in his ear. _You saved me, too, Little One._

**The End.**

**Oh, this was such a good story to write. Little blind Obi grew up, and Qui-Gon learned to love, and even Anakin looked almost human at this point.**

**For the last time, guys, please review.**


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